First Day of My Life
by Cassiopeia Mercutio
Summary: Teacher!AU. Castiel is a new teacher to Samuel Colt High School. He just wants to lay low and have a fresh start. Unfortunately for him, his heart disregards all his plans and flushes them down the toilet when he meets Mr. Dean Winchester, the teacher across the hall. Destiel! (DeanxCas)
1. Swear I was Born Right in the Doorway

Castiel's grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles were white. He chewed on his lower lip as he waged war internally. It was undeniable. He was scared shitless.

He stared at the deceiving entrance of his new private hell. It looked so innocent from the outside; a grand red brick encrusted building, vaulted ceilings, and pristine, white, freshly painted windows. The shrubbery that framed it all uniformly cut and tended. The American flag lay dead in the wind with the South Dakota state flag mimicked it underneath, and all against the backdrop of a clear, blue sky. He loosened his sapphire colored tie and undid the top button on his white dress shirt. He felt the humid air caress his stubbly face. The car inside which he sat kept in the heat like some sort of luxury mobile oven. Castiel took a deep breath, gathered his courage and brown messenger bag from the passenger seat next to him, and hopped out of his car.

Castiel walked towards Samuel Colt High School, immediately regretting wearing his suit jacket and trench coat. He would have to take it all off as soon as he got into his classroom. He felt the sweat pooling behind his neck and on his forehead. He wiped his soft dark hair out of his face, realizing he needed a haircut.

If it was already this hot at 6 am in the morning, Castiel imagined he would melt by third period.

"There better be air conditioning in my classroom!" Castiel yelled at the school from across the lawn, shaking his fist at it for good measure. One of the perks of getting to the first day of school almost two hours early was getting to be crazy without any eye witnesses.

Castiel practically jogged the rest of the way just to get out of the suffocating heat. He pushed open the red painted metal doors and was greeted with a blast of cool, artificial air.

"I've found God," Castiel said as he relished in the air conditioning, eyes closed.

"Just call me Chuck." Castiel's eyes snapped open. He felt his face grow hot and he cleared his throat. The stranger reached out and Castiel shook his hand. It was a little clammy. "Do you mind closing the doors? The a/c is kinda expensive."

"Yes, of course."

"You must be Mr. Novak?" Chuck asked. Castiel nodded and surveyed the man. He was more or less Castiel's own age, mid thirties. He had a nervous air about him. His shoulders slumped forward and his slightly oversized brown tweed jacket made him look almost sickly skinny. He had curly hair that was disheveled as if he had been running his hands through it. He smiled at Castiel and it softened his face, revealing his brown eyes to be warm and welcoming. Castiel smiled back.

"Hello, Chuck."

"I'm Principal Carver Edlund," Chuck explained. "But please never call me that. You're here really early."

"Yes. I wanted to acquaint myself with my classroom, and I was afraid I would get lost."

"First day jitters? I know the feeling. But I hope you'll find Samuel Colt High School welcoming, Mr. Novak."

"I already do," said Castiel genuinely. "Please, it's Castiel."

Chuck showed Castiel to his classroom. It was a plain beige colored classroom with bare walls.

"I apologize for not making it to the Teacher's Day last week," said Castiel embarrassed. "I just got to town yesterday."

"Don't worry about it," replied Chuck waving his hand dismissively. "I'm sure you'll settle in nicely. Come on, I'll show you the teacher's lounge."

Castiel followed the shorter man making small talk as they walked. The teacher's lounge was upstairs and as far from Castiel's classroom as possible. He imagined swimming against the tide of students for his lunch break. Castiel chewed on his lower lip again.

"You must be tired from the move," said Chuck, grabbing an apple from the basket on the counter. The room was obviously freshly painted. Castiel thought the olive green was a dark choice, especially since the room had only a small shoebox sized window at the top of the wall. The fluorescent light hummed in the background.

"Yes, but I assure you I am quite ready to be here," said Castiel.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply you're not!" Chuck chuckled nervously. "Your things must still be in boxes."

"Yes. In fact most of my possessions are still in the moving truck," said Castiel gently in offer of friendship. "Thus the wrinkled suit." Chuck chuckled again, this time comfortably.

"Hello!" Castiel turned around and was met with a blindingly white set of even teeth and a very pretty face. Her smile was open and genuine.

"Hi Lisa!" greeted Chuck.

"Hey Chuck!" She shook his hand, smile never once faltering. She was tan with a sprinkle of freckles over the bridge of her straight nose. She had dark hair swept up in a casual up do, uneven strands framing her face from the side quite pleasantly. She turned her 1,000 watt smile to Castiel, her hand out. Castiel shook it and smiled at Lisa. "You must be the new English teacher everyone's been gossiping about." Castiel instantly liked her.

"Yes, I'm Castiel Novak. I believe I will also be teaching Poetry."

"I'm Lisa Braeden. _Ms._ Braeden to the kids. I teach Economics and Women's History." She hadn't let go of his hand yet, and Castiel duly noted the emphasis on the title of _Ms_. He also noted her soft hand and peachy scent. "I think my son is in your first period."

"Well I have to go do some Principal type stuff, so I will leave you to Lisa's capable hands," said Chuck. He grabbed another apple and left. Lisa eyed Castiel's left hand.

"Chuck's a great principal to work for," said Lisa, brushing her hair out of her bright eyes. "None of that micromanaging stuff. Some teachers actually think he's a little too hands off."

She giggled and Castiel smiled. He'd have to make it clear to her he wasn't interested as soon as possible.

"I should get back to my classroom and prepare," said Castiel in the most polite tone he could muster.

"All right, have a good day Mr. Novak. Maybe I'll see you at lunch." Lisa winked.

"Perhaps," said Castiel. He made his way back to his classroom, passing a handful of teachers. Everyone nodded at him when they passed him, curiosity instilled in each of their eyes. Ah, yes, the excitement of "the new kid." Castiel told himself it would pass in a couple of weeks. He'd fly under the radar and soon all those questioning eyes would get bored and find something else to focus on. He'd just have to be patient. It was always the same in every town.

Castiel pulled out his laptop and lesson plans for the day. He wouldn't give any of his classes homework. He never did on the first day. He had always hated teachers that did that, and found that students worked harder and learned more under teachers that they didn't hate. It was a real groundbreaking theory he'd write a book about one day. Castiel snorted and pulled out pulled out two books from his worn out satchel. He hadn't decided which book his classes would read first.

_Romeo and Juliet _or _The Old Man and the Sea_? Well, he had a few days to choose, and hopefully something would inspire him. He wanted to gauge each of his classes anyways. Maybe he'd wait to do the Shakespearean tragedy until February? Castiel shrugged. Chatter and noise began to steadily grow outside his door. He checked his wrist watch and found it was already 7:35 am. The first bell would ring in 10 minutes.

"Well, here's the first day of my life," said Castiel as he opened the door of his naked classroom. The very first thing he saw was a pair of green eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm doing it! I'm writing a Supernatural fanfic! And a Destiel AU one at that! So, if you're interested, check out the song _First Day of My Life_ by Bright Eyes. It will be this fic's theme song. Thank you!


	2. It is the East, and Dean is the Sun

The green eyes were bright with life and laughter. Castiel took in the whole face that held the green eyes. It was most definitely a handsome face, the most handsome upon which Castiel had ever laid eyes; a chiseled jaw, some not unpleasant stubble, a straight nose, perfect cheek bones, and tan, slightly freckled skin. He wore a bright smile that reached his eyes. His hair was brown and short, like the bottoms of fresh baked cookies, parted on the side giving him that clean cut look.

Then Castiel swallowed the rest of the man, almost drowning right there in his doorway. He wore a fitted sweater, green like his eyes and complementing his skin. Castiel could tell he was a muscular man, perfectly in shape. He wore faded jeans that clung to his hips, drawing attention to them, and dark brown boots that made him look rugged. He also wore confidence like a second layer of skin. They had accidentally locked eyes when Castiel opened his door, and now Castiel was frozen as if those green eyes belonged to Medusa rather than this Adonis.

The Medusa/Adonis hybrid jutted his chin towards Castiel in form of a greeting, and smiled.

"Hey man! I'm Dean. I guess you're my new neighbor." Dean leaned against his doorway, crossing his arms, accidentally flexing. His deep voice sent shivers through Castiel's body.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel replied, thanking the universe he sounded normal. "My name is Castiel."

_"Hi, Mr. Winchester!"_ A gaggle of giggling girls passed between them. Dean smiled at them and a fresh, high pitched giggle fest commenced.

_"Oh my gosh!"_ Castiel heard one of them squeal. Dean for his credit didn't pay any attention to it. Castiel guessed it must not have been a new or strange occurrence for the man, not with those looks. Dean kept greeting all the students and faculty members that passed by. Some of the taller male students would bump their fists against his, more girls giggling as he greeted them, most waved and greeted 'Mr. Winchester.' Almost none of the passersby noticed Castiel, standing quietly in his classroom doorway. It was as if the classroom across the hall was the East, and Dean were the sun, so bright and attracting attention. The first bell rang and shook Castiel out of his comatose state. His students would find his classroom soon, and when the second bell rang, school would officially start. Castiel went back to his desk, shaking off his encounter.

He picked up _Romeo and Juliet_.

* * *

'_I HEART POSSE' _Dean read on Johnny Phoenix's tee shirt. The 'O' was a Sherriff's badge, and a silhouette of a group of cowboys was pictured beneath the words.

"Nice shirt," said Dean to Johnny as he passed. Johnny strutted with more confidence after his comment. Dean laughed and looked up at the door swinging open across from him. Dean registered blue eyes on a pale face and jet black hair. Dean greeted the new teacher casually and smiled. Poor guy's gonna be the center of attention for the next few weeks, and call him psychic, but Dean was pretty sure this guy wasn't the type who would enjoy that.

"Hey man! I'm Dean. I guess you're my new neighbor," Dean called out, leaning against his door frame. He unconsciously crossed his arms.

"Hello Dean," answered Blue Eyes. "My name is Castiel." Dean was surprised to hear such a deep, gravelly voice come from the skinny, delicate looking man.

_"Hi, Mr. Winchester,"_ sang a chorus of school girls as they passed him. He smiled at them and they broke out into fits of giggles. He greeted more students as they passed by, fully aware that Castiel was still staring at him. He would have made more small talk, but couldn't quite bring himself to look into those intense blue eyes again. Oddly, he didn't feel strange or violated or creeped out by the staring. Maybe because he could tell this guy was an oddball, but also seemed like he was mostly harmless. And hey, Dean Winchester was always a fan of the underdog. The first bell rang and Dean was about to wish the new teacher good luck, but he was already out of sight when he looked up.

Oh. Well, maybe he hadn't been staring after all.

* * *

_Rinnnggg!_ The shrill bell sounded, marking the end of fourth period.

"Enjoy the rest of your first day! And if no one is late for the rest of the week, no homework until Monday!" The class cheered as they packed their things.

"Goodbye, Mr. Novak," said one of the braver Freshmen girls. Castiel smiled at her and she blushed like, well, a schoolgirl. Her friends giggled with her as they left his classroom. Castiel shoved his laptop into his messenger bag and followed his class out.

Perhaps Castiel just wasn't paying attention, or his steps were too large, or the wave of students escaping their classrooms was too overwhelming, but whatever it was Castiel somehow found himself only inches away from Dean Winchester's face, barely a breath separating them.

"Personal space, Cas," joked Dean in a lighthearted tone. Castiel smelled the mix of mint and coffee on his breath.

"I apologize," said Castiel, taking a step back.

"Lunch time! It's my favorite time of the school day," Dean informed him, Castiel naturally falling into step with him. "Bacon cheeseburger and pie on the lunch menu today." Dean licked his lips and for some reason this made Castiel's stomach do flips.

"That sounds enticing," said Castiel hoping to attach the flipping feeling to hunger. "I actually brought a lunch," he confessed.

"I don't know man, usually cafeteria food blows, but I swear on my baby this is the best burger in the tri-county area." Castiel's heart jumped to his throat. He stole a glance at Dean's bare left hand. His baby?

"_You're acting like some love struck girl," _Castiel chastised himself.

"I suppose that sounds better than the microwave dinner I bought from the supermarket this morning."

"Damn straight!" agreed Dean. "Come on." He navigated through the maze of halls and students with Castiel in tow. The large cafeteria was bustling. The wide windows allowed the South Dakota sun outside to flood the room with bright sunshine while the students and staff filled it with chatter and life. Castiel's chest constricted. "Dude, you look like a scared Freshman."

"I _am_ a scared Freshman," admitted Castiel.

"Relax. You're not going to have to sit alone in one of the bathroom stalls. You'll sit with me," said Dean. Castiel blushed at being so transparent, but grateful, too, at Dean's unnecessary kindess.

"Thank you."

"Forget it," Dean waived off. They stood in line, red trays sliding along on the silver counter top. One of the students behind Castiel knocked into him, and like a domino Castiel knocked into a very solid Dean. Castiel noted the hardness of Dean's body, a bolt of electricity coursing through his body at the accidental touch. Dean for his part didn't seem to notice the bump at all. Dean ordered for both of them, 2 bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and 2 rather large slices of apple pie. He expertly flirted with the lunch ladies as they went. Dean winked, joked, and laughed so naturally and effortlessly that Castiel couldn't help but find it. . . what would be the word? Adorable? Endearing?

Sexy. The word would be sexy.

When they made it to the cash register, Castiel pulled out his wallet, but Dean waived him off again.

"I got it. Think of it as welcome to Samuel Colt High School gift."

"No, I couldn't—"

"Hey Pamela," said Dean, charm switching on automatically.

"Dean," the black haired woman replied. Castiel could see the obvious flirtation flickering in her dark eyes. Dean pulled out some bills from his brown leather wallet, but the Pamela woman shook her head.

"On the house, big boy," she said. "You gonna introduce me to your handsome friend here?" Pamela directed her eyes towards Castiel, unabashedly looking him up and down.

"This is Cas. Cas, this is Pamela. Watch out, though. She'll eat you alive."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," said Castiel.

"Wow! What a voice," said Pamela. "I can just imagine what it would sound like in the middle of—"

"Okay! We'll see you later," interrupted Dean, a big smile plastered on his face.

"See ya later, Cas," said Pamela.

"Geez, Cas you're going to do just fine at Sioux Falls," said Dean as they walked away.

"What do you mean?" asked Castiel as Dean waived to a circular table that sat a group of teachers.

"The ladies are gonna be throwing themselves at you." They reached the table and Dean plopped his tray down, turning the chair to face him and sitting down backwards on it. Castiel stood firmly a ways away from them. Dean looked back at him when he didn't sit down, and patted the chair next to him. Castiel's feet moved forward on their own accord. "Hey guys, this is Cas."

The table greeted him. Castiel recognized Lisa and she winked at him again.

"We met earlier," Lisa said.

"Hi, I'm Sam," said the rather large, fit man that sat on Castiel's left. He had long brown hair, a chiseled jaw, a slightly wide, but attractive nose, and kind, brown eyes. "I'm Dean's brother."

"Hello, Sam," said Castiel.

"I'm Charlie," said the skinny redhead sitting across from Castiel. She wore oversized glasses in a thick black frame, and a tee shirt with a blue police box on it.

"Hello, Charlie. My name is Castiel."

"Wow, cool name!" said Charlie.

"Thank you."

"I'm Ash," said the skinny man with the mullet sitting next to Charlie. "If you, uh, need anyone to show you around, you know, maybe put in a good word with the ladies, let me know. I'm kind of the town ladies man around here." Ash took a large swig out of his milk carton, leaving a chocolate mustache. The other teachers laughed and rolled their eyes.

"Hello, Ash. Thank you for the offer. I will consider it," said Castiel with such sincerity that the rest of the table erupted in loud laughter. Castiel found it pleasing that he had made them laugh, though slightly unclear as to how he had done so.

* * *

The first day of school went by quickly for Dean. Everything was so familiar and light at Samuel Colt High School. It was easy for him to meet the new students, the old students, have lunch with his friends, joke around. . . The most exciting thing about the day was meeting that new teacher whose classroom was directly across the hall from his. The guy seemed nice enough, a little quiet, a little formal in his speech, but nice all the same. Maybe he'll mix things up for a while. At least Dean hoped so. In fact, the guy must have been handsome because by the end of the day he had been receivig more than his fair share of giggling schoolgirls and school teachers. Dean wasn't sure if Cas realized it, though. He wasn't forward like Dean himself, not silently confident like Sam, but Dean wouldn't exactly say the guy was a nervous wreck like Chuck. He just seemed to be perfectly comfortable being who he was. Hey, if that's not confidence, right?

Dean mused to himself as he locked his classroom door behind him. Most of the students were still hanging around, saying hellos and cathing up about their summers. Dean looked over to Cas's classroom and found it was already empty. Maybe Cas and him could hit up a couple of bars and pick up some chicks together. Not that he needed a wingman, but it was always fun to have company. Something told Dean Castiel wasn't the bar scene kind of guy, and that just made it all the more fun.

He made his way to the parking lot, itching to drive off and grab a beer already. Sammy better not be taking his sweet time today. Dean spotted the black 1967 Chevy Impala given to him by his dad. He kept her clean, pouring as much time into her as she demanded. See, Dean was a great boyfriend after all, despite what others might say.

Dean saw Sam's moose-like frame leaning against his baby. He was chatting it up with someone Dean couldn't see, but guessed it was the owner of the black BMW M3 he had parked next to this morning.

". . .Seriously, this weekend. If you don't have any plans, you should come," Sam said. Dean walked up to the door of his Impala and turned the lock.

"I will consider it," answered a gruff voice.

"Hey Cas," said Dean leaning against the frame of his car as Sam got in the passenger seat.

"Hello Dean," said Cas. They locked eyes and both unaware they were staring until Sam cleared his throat.

"Ready Dean?"

"Hold your horses, Sammy. See ya tomorrow, Cas." Those blue eyes still intently gazing at him.

"Goodbye Dean." Dean got in the car, turning both his a/c and AC/DC on full blast, and peeled out of the parking lot. Sam looked at him questioningly at the sound of the tires squeeling. Dean ignored him and looked in his rearview mirror at Castiel who's head was slightly tilted, staring at the Impala as it drove off.


	3. Happy Birthday, Sammy!

In the dark, with only the soft glow of the tv behind him, the volume just loud enough to mask the silence of night, Castiel unpacked his last box. This was _his _first day tradition.

The whiskey in his glass cup beckoned him and he gave in. Another gulp, another breath of oxygen. He took out the books inside, thumbing through his father's old copy of _Catcher in the Rye_. He inhaled. As if his hands were on automatic pilot, he pulled out a slightly blurry, yellow edged photograph. He inhaled again, emptying out his glass, staring at the now fully blurry photo. But in his mind's eye he could still make out the photo, and his heart pumped out nostalgia, anger, and shame instead of the red blood cells they were supposed to.

Castiel passed out on the floor, his nightmares waiting to greet him. Ah, first days.

* * *

"Rough night?" asked Dean as he sauntered into Castiel's classroom.

"Hello Dean. Yes, I didn't seem to get enough of my REM cycle." Dean chuckled as he bit into the green apple he held in his hand. Juice ran down his mouth and chin, and Castiel's body reacted to the sight. He couldn't even look away as Dean wiped his jaw with his finger and absentmindedly licked the liquid from it. A heat began to pull from deep inside Castiel.

"Well, ready for lunch? Don't tell me you brought another tv dinner," said Dean, his cheeks full of apple. "They've got pizza today!"

"I suppose it's the best pizza in the tri county area?"

"Nah, it's just Papa John's, but I forgot to pack a lunch, and I'm not letting you eat mushy mystery meat with a side of processed mashed potatoes." Dean exited the room and Castiel found himself following.

"So Sammy told me he invited you to his birthday this Saturday," supplied Dean as they made their way through the crowded halls.

"Yes. He was kind enough to extend an invitation. However, as I've already told him, I will not be able to attend."

"What? Why not? You just moved into town, it's the first week of school; don't tell me you're already busy?" Dean continued his assault on the apple, and Castiel's heart began to beat so hard he thought it may just burst from his chest.

"I—" Castiel began, but found he didn't want to lie to Dean. "I suppose I could try to make it." Castiel's mouth formed a hard line. Dean clapped him on the back and smiled as he tossed the apple in trashcan.

"It'll be great! It's gonna be at The Roadhouse on Saturday at 10. I always buy the first round, so no fashionably late bs, okay?" Dean winked. His hand was still on Castiel's back forcing the English teacher to arrange his bag so that it would cover his crotch.

_"You're not fourteen," _he reminded himself, embarrassed, then relieved when Dean took his hand off him to grab a red tray.

* * *

_12:51 pm_

Castiel read the digital clock on his dashboard. He blew the hair out of his eyes and readied himself, a small prayer on his lips that Sam's party would be finished, or at least have moved on from the bar. He got out of his car and entered _The Roadhouse_.

The music was blaringly loud. It was dark inside the bar which seemed to have an awfully large dance floor for your basic dive bar. There were colored lights in the otherwise dark room. Castiel spotted the large banner across the room that read _Happy Birthday, Sam! _Apparently this was a bigger event than he thought it would be. The pop song playing had very obvious dance beat and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The whole place was alive. Castiel kept in the shadows away from the dance floor. He recognized many faces as the staff from Colt, but everyone seemed to be so engaged in the festivities (and drinking) that no one noticed him.

_"At least it wouldn't be a lie when I tell Dean on Monday that I made it to Sam's birthday_,_"_ said Castiel to himself. Before Castiel could consider slipping out, a large hand grabbed him by the shoulders.

"You made it!" Castiel could smell the tequila on Sam's breath. His eyes were glossey and a huge smile was plastered on his face. "Guys! Look who's here!"

Much to Castiel's dismay, much of the people around them turned and cheered. Sam led Castiel to the bar.

"Happy birthday, Sam," said Castiel, but Sam didn't hear him.

"A drink for my friend here," yelled Sam over the music. An older woman in a plaid shirt efficiently poured a shot and placed it in front of Castiel. "Shot!"

"No thank you," said Castiel. Again Sam heard nothing. Those around them began to chant _"Shot! Shot! Shot!"_ Castiel looked up to Sam to decline once more, but the open and smiling face could not be denied. Castiel took the drink and with one swift motion, drank it. He was awarded with a large _"Whoo!" _from the crowd.

"More!" shouted Sam. The laughing bartender poured Castiel another shot. He took it in one quick gulp, and more cheering interrupted. Without missing a beat the bartender poured a third and like the two before them, Castiel pounded the shot to the bar's delight.

"I think I'm done," said Castiel.

"No, I don't think so," said Sam, laughing. "You can really drink! Where's Dean?" Sam was yelling, but Castiel found it rather entertaining. Sam looked all around asking for Dean. Finally the sea of people parted as if Moses himself stood there and Castiel's eyes landed on Dean. Maybe it was the three shots of tequila, or the heat of South Dakota, but whatever it was Castiel suddenly found himself hot. It was like Castiel had been submerged underwater and the noise and music of the bar faded. He could only hear his own rapid heartbeat. Castiel's mouth dropped a little, though he was unaware, so enraptured by the sight before him to notice.

Dean walked towards him, joy written plainly on his face. He wore a plain black tee shirt that clung to his chest and biceps like water. His jeans hung low on his hips and his shirt had ridden up just a little, allowing Castiel to witness a small patch of skin. Castiel licked his lips.

"Dude! I thought you were gonna be a no show!" said Dean, clapping Castiel on the back and standing too close. Castiel smelled the liquor on Dean's breath. "You have to catch up."

"Dean! Dean!" yelled Sam.

"Sammy, I'm right here, you drunk moose!"

"Shut up, short stack," quipped Sam.

"Bitch." Dean's lip twitched.

"Jerk." Sam smiled. "Dean, I think we may have a contender for your title," said Sam. He nodded towards Castiel who tilted his head and squinted at the two brothers.

"Contender?" asked Castiel.

"Is that right?" yelled Dean over the music. "Well let's settle this right now!" Dean leaned over the bar and talked with the bartender. The music was too loud for Castiel to hear. The next thing he knew he was being pushed to sit at a small table in the middle of the bar, and the music had stopped. Somehow he had found himself the center of attention when all he desperately wanted was to be an invisible wallflower in the shadows. But all of that vanished when Dean sat down opposite him. There was a glint in his green eyes that made Castiel's pants tighten.

"I don't understand what is happening," Castiel said.

"We are gonna have ourselves a drinking game," explained Dean. He had a playful smirk on his lips that Castiel couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from.

"Mic, 1, 2, Mic test," slurred Sam into a microphone who knows where he got it from. "Ladies and gentlemen, my brother Dean has, over the last four years, been the undefeated, shot for shot, drunk champion here at The Roadhouse—" There was clapping and cheering from the crowd, and some playful booing as well. Sam motioned for them to quiet down.

"—But tonight, tonight we have ourselves a challenger!" Unilateral approval erupted at Sam's last word. "Ellen?" The older woman in plaid placed two trays worth of shots in front of Castiel and Dean. She lined them up in two neat rows of five, one for Dean, one for Castiel.

"Take it easy on him," yelled Ellen to Dean. This only made the wicked spark in his eye shine brighter, and that only made Castiel's erection harder.

* * *

The room wasn't spinning yet, and that was a good sign. Dean's flesh was hot from all the drinking, dancing, and sweating.

"Take it easy on him," he heard Ellen say to him. That only pushed his competitiveness out even further. He stared Castiel down.

"Dude, are you up for this?" Castiel looked pale. Dean reached over and gripped the blue eyed man's shoulder. Color flushed into Castiel's face. "It's okay if you want to back out." Dean might have smirked. Sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

Something flashed in those blue eyes that gave Dean goose bumps.

"I'll be fine," he promised, a darkness washing over his face. Goose bumps again. "So what is it exactly that we're doing?"

"House rules, whoever drinks the most wins. You puke, you lose," answered Sam while his mouth was still glued to the microphone. Castiel nodded his understanding. "Wait for the bell."

Dean and Castiel stared at each other. The whole bar seemed so far away to Dean he wondered for a moment if they had left Castiel and himself alone. Finally, a loud, clear bell rang. Dean reached for his first shot glass, but before it even reached his lips Castiel knocked back his first one, then second, then third. . .

"Shit," Dean said and rushed to try and catch up. He sputtered over the third shot just as Castiel turned over his last glass. Dean furrowed his eye brows refusing to give up. The crowd was going crazy. Ellen placed another set of five in front of Castiel and he tossed them back quickly and efficiently, making sure to turn over his empty glasses. He was finished with his second set just as Dean slammed down shot number five. Ten more tiny glasses appeared and Castiel threw back his set with as much ease as his first ones. Sammy next to them was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Dean tried, God knows he tried, but shot number eight just wouldn't go down. He choked on the tequila and held onto the edge of the table. The party waited for a moment, holding their breath. But Dean just couldn't hold it in anymore. For the first time in the history of its establishment, Dean Winchester puked all over _The Roadhouse_.

The room blew up in cheers. Dozens of hands clapped Castiel on the back, a handful patting the former "champion," but most keeping a safe vomit free distance. He hadn't meant to draw so much attention to himself, but he couldn't help it. He _had_ to wipe that smug look off Dean's face somehow.

Dean groaned and Castiel felt a twinge of guilt.

"Come on," said Castiel, supporting Dean's weight as he placed the drunk man's arm over his shoulders. "I'll take you to the bathroom to get cleaned up." All Dean could do was meekly nod in agreement. Castiel practically carried Dean as they made their way to the bathroom. Castiel was gentle and reassuring as he helped Dean splash water on his face and handed him some paper towels to clean up the vomit around his mouth.

"Do you need to throw up again?"

"No. Maybe. I'm not sure," said Dean. He clutched at his stomach, leaning against the sink and Castiel's body for support. The music had started up again and even behind the heavy wooden door that separated the bathroom and the rest of The Roadhouse, Castiel could feel the bass of the song in his chest. He could just imagine how Dean was feeling. Dean leaned closer to Castiel, his scent, underneath the alcohol and vomit smell, cut through the comfortable haze of drunkenness that was settling over Castiel.

"You fish like a drink," murmured Dean into Castiel's neck. His breath ghosted over the nape of Castiel's neck sending miniature bolts of lightning down all the way to his already painfully hard erection. Castiel turned his hips away from Dean, but all that did was accidentally make Cas brush against Dean's crotch. Dean may have moaned at this friction, though Castiel wasn't sure if it was just a warning that Dean would be emptying his stomach soon. Dean let out a shaky breath, the moistness hitting Castiel's skin. "Cas?"

"Yes Dean?"

"I don't think I can drive home." Castiel let out a small laugh.

"No, I don't think so either."

"I don't think you can drive home, too," said Dean. Castiel looked around the empty bathroom and realized it was spinning slightly. Dean's drunk grammar didn't even bother him.

"I think you're correct."

"Let's walk home together," said Dean.

"I don't know where you live. We probably don't live in the same direction."

"Just stay over then. Sammy won't mind." Dean shifted so he could lean in closer to Castiel.

"You live with Sam?" was all Castiel could register. He heard a soft snore from his shoulder. Dean's face was completely relaxed. His lashes rested softly on his high cheekbones and Castiel was tempted to count each one, but he couldn't seem to make it past one. . . Castiel blinked, taking longer and longer to open his eyes again. He hadn't noticed that at one point he leaned against the sink behind him. Before he knew it, Castiel passed out as he sat awkwardly on the bathroom sink, propped up by Dean Winchester's body leaning against his, and the bathroom wall.


	4. Polaroid Proof

**A/N: Hi! Just to give you a head's up, this fic's origInal rating was "T" but I've since changed my mind and have now changed it to "M". **

* * *

_Flash!_

A bright white light accompanied by a whirring sound woke Dean up, and he was not happy about it. He tried to open his eyes, blinking away the heaviness of sleep. The room was too bright, his head pounded, and dammit, there was too much giggling and laughing going on.

"What's going on?" Dean mumbled into his arm. Wait, both his arms were already accounted for. He jumped back at the sight of a dead asleep Castiel next to him, practically on top of him.

"This was the best birthday ever," said Sam through shaky laughter. Dean saw he held Ellen's Polaroid camera in one hand, and a fresh Polaroid photo in the other.

"Son of a bitch!" said Dean, but Charlie shushed him and pointed to the still sleeping Castiel. Dean tried to scoot away from his new friend, but Castiel apparently had locked him inside some sort of death grip.

"Should we leave you two alone?" asked the petite blonde girl next to Sam.

"Shut up, Jo!" Dean turned to wake Castiel. "Castiel. Dude, get up. It's morning."

"It's 12:30, Dean," Sam informed his brother. Dean could feel the crick in his neck, and his back was protesting, picketing really, at his position and how he had slept. Castiel slept like a rock. This made the three stooges by the door laugh harder. "Dean, this is hilarious. I've never seen anyone so drunk that they fell asleep standing up in the bathroom of a bar!"

"Why didn't anyone wake us?" Dean demanded.

"Well, you two just looked so damn cute together that all of Sammy's guests just left you alone and shared the women's bathroom," said Jo, mischief dancing in her eyes. Charlie pulled out a stack of Polaroids.

"A lot of people actually took photos with you guys. It was pretty funny," said Charlie.

"I hate all of you," said Dean. He tried to shake Cas awake again. "How much did Cas have to drink?"

"He drank a whole liquor store," answered Sam.

"I don't want to hurt the guy, but seriously, I have to pee." Sam took another photo of his older brother. "Cut it out, Sammy!"

Lucky for Dean, Castiel began to stir. He opened his eyes and saw Dean's face.

"Hey neighbor. Fancy seeing you here."

Castiel jumped back from Dean and Dean was reminded of a blue eyed deer in headlights.

"Uh, where am I?" Castiel asked. He nervously glanced around looking for all possible escape routes.

"You were pretty plastered last night, man," said Sam. Castiel blushed.

"My apologies for the inconvenience. I did not mean to have gotten so, uh, inebriated," said Cas, eyes looking at Dean's face, then away.

"Don't worry about it, everyone gets smashed sometime," said Jo. "And I'm surprised you're not doubling over that toilet with everything you drank last night. Eighteen shots in under ten minutes? You're like Superman!"

"Yeah, you don't even look like you're hung over," said Sam. He looked at Dean who looked green and was clearly not quite finished vomiting.

"Well, I should go home now," said Castiel looking at all of them and chewing on his bottom lip. He looked up at Sam and added, "It was a very lovely party. Thank you for having me." Sam was about to laugh, but Castiel pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket.

"You got me something?" asked Sam incredulously. He accepted the small box and ripped it open. It was a moose shaped key chain.

"Over the past week I have heard Dean relate you to a moose, and thought it suited you," said Cas. Charlie and Jo both went _aw_.

"That's pretty funny," said Dean.

"Thanks Cas! That's really thoughtful," Sam grabbed the smaller man into a quick hug.

"I smell the beginning of a bromance," said Charlie.

"Careful, don't make Dean jealous," quipped Jo.

"Thank you for the lovely time. I think I will go and pay my bar tab now."

* * *

Dean's Sunday was shot to hell. He had spent all of the remaining daytime hours doubled over the toilet bowl. He was ashamed to admit he ended up spending the time between his fits of vomiting lying on the cold tile floor on his bathroom floor. He felt like some frat boy who didn't know how to handle his liquor. Sam would periodically check up on Dean, like at lunch, dinner, when he was eating a snack, another snack, and dessert, you know, anytime he could make Dean's experience worse. Dean hated that dick sometimes.

With his hangover finally abated and his worshipping of the porcelain goddess complete, Dean climbed into bed. His head still pounded, and Dean's body desperately ached for sleep. He thought of a way to help his situation.

Dean palmed his sleeping manhood through his jeans.

_Shit, he forgot he still hadn't changed from last night. _

He lazily undid the button and pulled at his zipper.

_That was one hell of a party—_

Dean recalled some of the previous night's events with a smile on his somewhat chapping lips. He licked his lips and a memory came to him unintentionally, but there all the same.

_Castiel must have licked his lips a dozen times at The Roadhouse._

Dean shimmied out of his jeans and tugged his shirt over his head.

_That guy was a crap load of fun—_

He hands moved to rub his now waking rod, his body remembering his original plan before his brain. Okay, so maybe he was still slightly under the influence.

_He killed those shots—_

More rubbing, more hardening.

_Like he had no gag reflex—_

Completely hard now.

_The possibilities of no gag reflex. Hey, why were his boxers still on?_

He pulled them off and his hard cock sprang free.

_God, that felt good—_

Another memory came to him.

_Last night he felt a pure shot of arousal. What was he doing? He couldn't quite remember—_

He searched his mind, trying to capture the foggy memories.

_The alcohol was making his skin hot, burn almost, and something rubbed against his crotch—_

No, his subconscious told him, it was _someone_.

Who? Lisa? Jo? Cassie—

_Cas. It was Castiel. In the bathroom. Totally accidental, but still. . ._

Dean breathe deeply, searching for another memory, but he couldn't catch any.

_He remembered leaning against Cas and smelling the guy. He remembered the warmth of the solid chest he used to steady himself. He remembered breathing on Cas's neck and feeling Cas's body shiver and lean closer to him._

Drunk with exhaustion, leftover alcohol in his system, and lust, Dean didn't even realize his muscle memory kicked in and he was now gripping his cock tight and tugging. He swiped his thumb over the head of his fully hard dick, spreading the small drop of precum on the tip. Dean pulled open the nightstand next to him and pulled out a bottle of lotion. With his thoughts still on the beautiful man with the solemn demeanor and blue eyes, Dean squeezed the bottle over his hand. He rubbed it all over his palm and fingers, then proceeded to continue getting jerking himself off.

_He remembered moaning into Cas as the other man's hip rubbed against his cock. _

Dean couldn't help but moan now, too.

_He remembered Pamela's comment about Cas's voice. What would it sound like in the throes of sex? He had never heard a voice quite like his . . . so gruff. _

"It's made for sex," Dean said to himself, turning himself over so that he was lying on his stomach. While still gripping himself tight, he began to move against a pillow that had found itself between his legs.

_His mind and body kept going back to the bathroom at The Roadhouse. The warm—no, hot body pressed up against him, or was he pressed up against it? Whose warm body again? _

Dean moaned, remembering not exact details, rather bits and pieces like a half made jigsaw puzzle.

_Blue eyes. Soft hair. Hot skin. The scent of soap, liquor, and sweat. . ._

His bucking against his hand and the pillow increased.

_In his mind he heard a voice moan, deep and full of desire. It was a rough voice to match the rough stubble on Cas's face. _

A flash, a momentary vision of Cas's face contorted with sheer pleasure came to Dean so clearly he squinted his already closed eyes. Then he came all over his pillow with such force that Dean fell asleep before he could even clean up, or feel confusion, shame, or guilt at what he had just done.


	5. Lonely Living Rooms and Barbecues

Dean remembered the next morning. His chest constricted with fear. Holy shit, did he really get off thinking about Cas? His new friend? His new _male _friend?

_No, he was just drunk. It was an accident._

"Doesn't count," said Dean. He buried his head in his pillows and began to drift off as he pushed down his guilt.

"Dean! We're gonna be late!" Sammy thumped against his bedroom door. Dean rolled off his bed.

"Son of a bitch," he grumbled.

* * *

Bobby Singer sat at a red light, beating his thumbs on the worn sterring wheel. Movement caught his peripheral vision and he turned his head.

From across the street he saw two figures scurrying across the ever perfect lawn of Samuel Colt High School. One of the figures dropped something and had to jump back mid stride, then continued towards the school. Bobby squinted his eyes and recognized the town's favorite pair of brothers.

"Idjits," he whispered under his breath.

* * *

"You're such a jerk!" yelled Sammy over his shoulders as they ran inside. Dean slammed into his classroom door. He found it was empty.

"Crap!" He dumped his things on his desk and proceeded to call Chuck from his class phone. As he picked up his receiver and something outside his window caught his eye. He hung up and turned on his heel, a smile playing upon his lips.

* * *

"What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!" Laughter erupted from freshmen siting on the grass.

"No, no, Ben. You're not calling your wife a prostitute. It's 'ho!' like a battle cry. Like 'hoorah!'" said Castiel.

"Hoorah!" imitated Dean as he got closer.

"Mr. Winchester!" said one of Dean's students. He waved to his class. They began to get up from their seats in the grass, but Dean waived them back down.

"Please continue," said Dean, plopping down with the kids. He stared at Cas who seemed to be playing director. There were a handful of students, some from his class, some from Cas's, standing up, play fighting and reading from their texts. They continued and he watched as Cas talked them through the scene, interrupting them to give the two classes tidbits of information. Sometimes Cas would turn to Dean and he'd add something, but overall he was completely happy to watch Cas take the lead.

The bell rang. Dean got up from his seat in the grass and walked over to Cas.

"Thanks for covering my ass," said Dean. They headed back towards their classrooms.

"It was no trouble. I'm not sure if you were planning on starting _Romeo and Juliet_, I hope this doesn't push your class back?"

"It's fine. We could do some Shakespeare early. They liked it, I could tell," said Dean.

"Don't be so impressed. I have been teaching for ten years," said Cas. Dean let out a chuckle as they entered the hallway. The swarm of kids was too much for the hallway and Cas and Dean were pushed into each other. Dean felt the heat on his face and he hoped it was just the sun.

"Yeah. Hey, so Saturday was fun," said Dean

_Why the hell was he bringing that up now?_

"Uh, yes. I supposed it was."

_Why was Cas looking away?_

"Hey, I didn't make you feel uncomfortable, did I?" They had reached their classrooms, but both men stood in front of their doors, still refusing to part just yet.

"No, I was afraid I had made you uncomfortable." Dean relaxed.

"Are you planning on teaching your other Freshman classes outside?" Dean asked.

"Yes," said Cas. Dean hesitated, which felt very foreign to him. "Would your classes like to join us?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Dean's face broke out into a huge smile.

* * *

Castiel pulled Dean into the backseat of that shiny black Impala by his tie and the broader man fell on him. Their hips aligned like Mercury and Venus on the night of winter solstice at a palm reading. Castiel gripped Dean's hips, pulling him closer as he pushed his own hips forward trying to create friction.

"Cas!" Dean moaned into Castiel's neck.

His breath was hot and ragged. It drove Castiel further into his own lust. Dean began to move in earnest, the soft fabric of their slacks rubbing against each other. Castiel pulled Dean's dress shirt out of his pants so he could get his hands underneath and touch the skin hidden. Dean reacted to the touch and roughly puled at Castiel's own tie until it came undone. With strong hands, Dean pulled both of Castiel's hands over his head and tied them together using Castiel's own tie. This only served to make Castiel moan and buck against Dean even harder.

Dean kissed him deeply, his tongue reaching all the wonderful parts of his mouth he didn't know was there. Castiel kissed back, trying to entwine with Dean's hard body as much as he could, more even. When Dean trailed kisses on his jaw and neck, Cas began to chant Dean's name like a prayer. He was so lost in Dean's kisses he didn't notice the hand that snaked its way down between them where their hard members intersected. When Dean's large and confident hand gripped his cock through the material of his pants, Cas was so surprised and aroused at the same time that he came right there and then.

Then he woke up. Castiel grumbled as he pushed himself off his bed in search of new bed sheets.

* * *

Three weeks passed since Sam's birthday party. That first week after all anyone on the staff could talk about was Castiel and Dean's drinking match. Castiel tried to hide in the sanctuary of his classroom during lunch periods, but Dean had apparently thought they had a permanent standing date for lunch. During the second week, Castiel had tried to excuse himself from heading over to the cafeteria with Dean, citing he had to prepare for an upcoming project for his Poetry class, but the green eyed teacher just took it as an invitation to have lunch with Castiel in his classroom. He tried again the next day, purposely planning on finally decorating his classroom, but Dean again took it as an invitation to help him hang and staple things on his walls (albeit crookedly).

So that's how it went. Castiel's day would begin with an incessant pounding of his heart as he would pull in to his self-designated parking spot next to the ever gleaming black Impala, which he was informed was Dean's baby. Then he'd stand in his doorway talking about nonsensical things with his Adonis of a neighbor across the hall while they waited for the first bell to ring. Lunch would come and he'd spend an hour with Dean and his friends (or just Dean if they stayed in his classroom), then he'd pack quickly at the end of the day just so he could steal some more moments with Dean as they walked to their cars together.

"So you meet anyone yet?" asked Dean as they walked to their cars one Friday afternoon.

"I've met a lot of people over the past month," answered Castiel.

"Very funny, Cas. I mean chicks. You get any tail lately?" asked Dean. Castiel blushed, but Dean continued. "Oh, come on! We're friends! Don't tell me you're not going to let me live vicariously through you!"

"Well Dean, you could always go and 'get tail' yourself." Castiel used his finger to make air quotes.

"Not anymore. I'm in a committed relationship now." Castiel's gut burned as if he had been poked by a branding stick.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, me and Cassie."

"I don't think I've met her," said Castiel, scanning his mind through all the new faces he'd recently met.

"She was out of town the last few weeks, taking care of some family stuff. She runs the paper here in Sioux Falls."

"How long have you two been seeing each other?"

"We tried dating a few years back, it didn't work out. When she came back from her dad's funeral the other day, we decided to give it another go." All Castiel could do was nod. "Hey come over this Sunday so you can meet Cassie!"

"No, I have plans," said Castiel rather quickly.

"It'll be fun, Cas! Sam and I'll heat up the barbecue, we'll grab some brewskies, throw some wieners on the grill. . ." Dean's face was so bright as he spoke about the imagined get together that Castiel's chest tightened. He examined the face, laugh lines around the eyes despite his youth. It was endearing-no it was arousing.

"I can't," said Castiel. He proud at himself or being able to finally decline Dean, though to be perfectly honest it may have had to do more with a faceless woman in the back of his mind than actual self-restraint.

"Both days? Look, if you've got plans for tomorrow, then we'll meet up on Sunday. Or if you've got plans for Sunday, then come over tomorrow." Dean's face was darker now, as if fear was creeping on its perfect features. Castiel laughed at himself internally.

"I suppose I can make it tomorrow," said Castiel. He tried not to stare as Dean leaned against his car looking like a promise of wild sex like on the cover of a sexy calendar. He had to get out of there already.

"Okay, see you at noon. Don't be late," said Dean as Castiel practically threw himself in the driver's seat. "I'll text you the address." Castiel pulled out of the pedestrian filled parking lot, skin burning from the inside out.

* * *

At exactly noon, Castiel's doorbell rang. He ignored it at first, but after a minute of victorious silence his bell began to ring in an erratic pattern. He dragged himself out of his warm bed and made his way to the door.

"Well good morning, sunshine."

"Dean, what are you doing here?"

"It's noon, Cas, and we made a date." He winked at the sleepy eyed teacher.

"Oh, I was just, I was going to make it," said Castiel. "Eventually."

"Nope, I know your game, Cas. You think if you show up late, you get to leave early, or better yet miss the whole thing. Too bad, I'm here to give you a ride. Now get dressed." Dean pushed his way inside Castiel's house and plopped himself on the grey couch, and turned on the tv. Castiel just stared, dumbfounded. "Hurry up, Cas, we still have to pick up the hot dogs and burgers!" said Dean without looking back at him.

* * *

Dean looked around Cas's bare home with a frown. The walls were a dull taupe color. He had a small tv that balanced on a stool in the middle of his lonely living rom. There were empty boxes used as makeshift furniture all over the room. Dean crossed his legs over the large brown box that was placed where a coffee table should have been. There were stacks of books littered on the floor, and Dean noticed a half dozen empty bottles of whiskey at the foot of the couch. There were no photos, or mirrors in the living room as far as Dean could tell. Despite his manners, and knowing that it really wasn't his business (it's not like this was Sammy's house), Dean picked up the bone dry bottles and placed them inside the trash can in the kitchen.

"I'm ready," said Cas. He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, and the rest of the house. Dean flushed at being caught throwing away Cas's bottles away, at least that's what he told himself. He certainly wasn't blushing at what Cas was wearing. He wore a grey, perfectly fitted, not too tight tee shirt, and faded jeans cut up on one of the knees. He still had that bed head and a five o'clock shadow at noon. There wasn't anything feminine about him at all.

"Uh, let's get going then," said Dean a little more gruffly than he meant.

* * *

"So Cas," Dean started. Castiel kept his eyes closed as the breeze combed through his hair through the open window of the Impala.

"Yes Dean?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How come you barely have any furniture?" Castiel's eyes snapped open. He didn't answer. "Sorry man, it's none of my business. Your house just felt like you're just passing through. You're here to stay, aren't you?"

"I haven't decided," said Cas honestly. When did that happen? He never stayed longer than one school year.

"Dude, what the hell?" There was anger in his face Castiel had never seen before. "You serious?"

"Yes," answered Castiel, tilting his head as he stared at Dean's face. Dean turned his eyes back on the road.

"I thought, I mean, what's so bad about Sioux Falls?" Dean gripped the steering wheel tight.

"Nothing. It's actually the best place I've ever lived in" said Castiel. Dean stole a glance at him.

"Then why?"

"I just—that's quite personal," said Castiel. He stared out the passenger side window.

"And?"

"And you're right. It's none of your business." The rest of the drive to the supermarket and to Dean's house was silent and tense. Castiel wanted to get out of the car and walk home, away from Dean, but he stayed. What he wanted even more than to leave Dean was to stay with him, as close to his proximity as was allowed.

As they walked up the porch steps to the yellow and white house, Dean turned and locked eyes with Castiel.

"Hey man, I'm sorry, ok? I guess I don't know where personal boundaries start." Castiel searched that perfect face and found only well meaning.

"I'm sorry, too Dean. Thank you for your concern, but it is not necessary." For a fleeting moment Castiel thought, hoped, _willed_ Dean to kiss him. Instead the front door opened and Sam came out.

"Hey guys! Took you long enough." Dean was already walking past Sam before Cas could blink.

* * *

**A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading. I'll admit that reviews are very encouraging. It makes me feel like I'm connected to the FF community. **

**I realize that I'm getting wordy, and possibly boring. I agree that there doesn't seem to be much plot or conflict yet, but I do have a few things planned. I need to work on unfolding the plot quicker. That's my goal for next chapter: legitimately start the conflict rolling!**

**Thank you!**


	6. A Tax Accountant, a Cowboy, and Thor

Castiel did not like Cassie. She was so open, strong, and comfortable in Dean's arms. Every time Castiel looked at her something rose inside his belly. It was a cold, nauseating feeling. His mind knew it was unfair to have such strong emotions towards Cassie, he had just indeed met her five minutes ago, but nonetheless Castiel sat on the porch swing glaring at the ground as he watched Cassie laugh in Dean's arms out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Cas. Sorry my brother showed up at your house. He just doesn't know what the word 'boundary' means," said Sam. He sat by Castiel with two beers. Castiel gladly took one. "But hey, I'm glad you're here."

Castiel took a swig of the beer. The ale tasted sweet against Castiel's internal bitterness. He spent the rest of the afternoon deliberately looking away from Dean and Cassie, downing more than enough beer to numb the world.

* * *

Sam's laugh boomed from his broad chest. Jess sauntered over to him and he accepted her presence as she sat on his lap.

"Cas, man, you're crazy," Sam said. Jess squeezed his arm as she laughed, too.

"I am not mentally ill," said Cas. His face was flushed and his shirt and dark hair clung to his person underneath the South Dakota sun. "I'm merely stating that_ Buffy_ _the Vampire Slayer_ is clearly our generation's literary treasure, and will be treated with as much respect as _Pride and Prejudice_, or any of Jane Austen's works a hundred years from now." He took another swig of his umpteenth beer. Sam and Jess laughed in their seat, enjoying the drunk man's company. Lisa snorted in her seat next to Castiel on the porch swing. She had scooted closer and closer towards him over the past half hour, though Cas didn't notice. Sam witnessed Jess and Lisa exchange looks, a questioning furrow forming on his handsome brow. Lisa placed a hand on Cas' shoulder with a soft giggle.

"What's so funny over here?" asked Dean as he found a seat by Sam and Jess.

"Freaking Cas, man," said Sam.

"Why did Cassie leave so early?" asked Jess.

"Oh, did she go?" asked Cas.

"Uh, yeah. She said goodbye to you, man." Cas didn't catch Dean's eye, he merely shrugged indifferently. Dean turned to Jess and Sam. "She had an emergency at work."

"Well, I'm really happy you two are trying it one more time," said Lisa. Dean was about to smile at her, but when he looked up his face fell. Sam followed his gaze and watched Lisa sit on a drunk Cas' lap.

"Whoo," said Sam. Jess and Lisa giggled.

"Really, Samantha? You're a 'whoo girl' now?" Cas leaned back and tilted his head. He looked to Sam as if he were trying to dissect Lisa's action. Sam chuckled under his breath.

"So Cas," said Sam.

"Yes?"

"You must be tired. Lisa here can give you a ride home." Lisa shot Sam a look of thanks. He wiggled his eyebrows at Cas.

"Oh."

"Nah, I can give you a ride," said Dean. Sam looked over to Dean. He tried to communicate with his brother without saying the words.

"Dean, you've been drinking. You're in no condition to drive," said Sam. He nodded towards Lisa and Cas, but Dean didn't look at him.

"Well I'll be fine in a couple of hours. You're not ready to go home, are you Cas?"

"Well, if I've overstayed my welcome—"

"Nope. Told you could stay over anytime if you're ever too drunk to get home," said Dean with a smile.

"Excuse me, but I must use the restroom," said Cas. Sam missed the relieved look on Dean's face as Cas all but pushed Lisa off.

* * *

Castiel looked up from his desk to the clock on the wall. It was almost seven at night, but he made no movement to pack his things.

Halloween decorations adorned his classroom. There were real, badly carved pumpkins on his window sill. Construction paper bats hung from the ceiling, right next to the fluffy fake spider webs. He could hardly believe it was already the end of October.

His first two months at Samuel Colt High School flew by like a good night's sleep. His school days were all sunshine and smiles, though his nights at home were all darkness and bottoms of empty bottles. Most of the smiles belonged to Mr. Winchester, his new co-teacher for their English Freshmen classes. They took full advantage of the lingering summer sun and held their classes out on the open lawn. Their students adored their class, and it became the most popular and looked forward to class in the entire school. Not one student missed or was late for their class. They'd let the kids act out the play, all the while sneaking information and asking questions that made the students think. One time the kids even made Mr. Novak and Mr. Winchester act out a scene.

Dean was all smiles and waggling eyebrows, ready to entertain as always. Castiel normally shed his shyness when he was teaching, but reenacting the ever romantic scene between the two star crossed lovers as they professed their undying love made Castiel's knees almost buckle. Though Dean used Shakespeare's words, Castiel imagined they were his own. Even now, weeks after, the thought of it still made Castiel's face flush.

"Mr. Novak?" Castiel looked up from the papers he was grading.

"Good evening, Chuck."

"I thought everyone had gone home for the weekend."

"Well, I had a few papers to grade, and I didn't think anyone would mind if I stayed late."

"No, of course not! I'm just surprised! Actually, I'm really glad you're here." Castiel tilted his head and looked at Chuck questioningly.

"Why is that?" Chuck chuckled.

"Well, Rufus, the Gym teacher just called me. He's having some sort of family emergency." Castiel waited for Chuck to elaborate. When he didn't, Castiel was forced to show a socially acceptable amount of concern for the stranger Gym teacher.

"I, I hope everything is okay."

"Well, I hope so, too. But this puts me in a jam. He was one of the chaperones for tonight, and he's already halfway to Idaho." Castiel chewed at his lower lip. Chuck continued. "And the dance is at seven. I can't get another teacher on the phone. I can't cancel the dance, the kids would be crushed."

Castiel sighed. Well, he supposed it was better than another night of blackout drinking.

"I would be glad to volunteer." Chuck let out a shaky breath he was holding.

"Thanks! You'll have fun," promised Chuck. "The Winchesters are chaperoning, too."

* * *

"What? Look what the cat dragged in," said Dean. He stood by the punch bowl with his brother, Sam. Hordes of girls were throwing them shy glances from across the gymnasium. Orange and black balloons were scattered all over the gym, taped against the basketball hoops, littered on the floor, and floating by the gym doors. There were black streamers everywhere, and Castiel really hoped cleanup was not part of the responsibilities of being a chaperone.

"You look like you've had a long day," said Sam. Castiel looked down and noted with a frown his disheveled appearance. His crumpled white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, and his tie loose at his neck.

"Where's your costume?" asked Dean. Castiel noted how very refreshed and handsome Dean looked. Especially in his cowboy costume. Castiel's pants may have tightened at the sight of him, in fact.

"Nice blanket," said Castiel.

"It's a poncho," corrected Dean. "It's very authentic."

"Yeah, what are you supposed to be?" asked Sam. He was dressed as Thor, but without the cheesy blonde wig.

"Well, I actually was in my classroom when Chuck asked if I could chaperone. He was short one adult."

"You've been here since this morning? Dude, you should have let me know! I would have brought you an extra costume!"

"Dean has—a lot," said Sam.

"That's very thoughtful, but not necessary." Dean only shook his head.

"Well, if anyone asks, let's just say you're an overworked tax accountant during tax season."

"If it will make you feel better," said Castiel.

The dance was all in all, not too bad of a way to spend the evening. He mostly chatted with Dean and they walked around, making sure none of the kids were dry humping on the dance floor, or spiking the punch. They broke up a couple of make out sessions under the bleachers, and a few in the hallway, but Dean always pretended he didn't see them, he just cleared his throat as they approached. It was close to 9:30 and the dance was winding down. Dean and Castiel were standing by the door, eyeing the dance floor as the DJ played a slow song. Some of the kids were awfully close as they swayed to the music, but none of the teachers said anything. This was a night of memories for these kids after all.

"Cassie and I broke up." It was a good thing the lights were down so Castiel could hide the small smile that tugged on the corners of his lips.

"Oh no," said Castiel. Even he could hear how insincere he sounded. Dean raised an eyebrow and stared at him, but said nothing.

"Yeah. Last Sunday." All Castiel could do was nod. Dean edged closer to him and he felt the hairs on his neck stand. "Hey, can I ask you something?" Dean whispered into Castiel's ear and he could feel the other man's hot breath. He almost shivered.

"What?" asked Castiel, trying to maintain his composure, especially in such a public place. Not that anyone was paying any attention to them in their dark corner.

"Do you not like Cassie?" The question surprised Castiel.

"I don't know Cassie," said Castiel.

"That's what I mean. You never hang out with us if you know she's coming, you disappear at lunch if she ends up stopping by to visit me, and if I do get you in a room with her, you won't even look at her!" Castiel could feel Dean's gaze boring a whole through his cheek, but denied himself to look back at him. Castiel merely shrugged his shoulders. Dean let out an angry huff and grabbed Castiel's arm.

"Okay, you're coming with me." Castiel allowed himself to be pulled out of the gymnasium and all the way to the teacher's lounge.

"Why are we here?"

"This is the one room that's open and I know the kids won't come here."

"That doesn't really answer my question." Dean sighed as he leaned against the olive green wall. The moon beamed light through the one small window, landing on Dean in the otherwise dark room like a soft spotlight. He had taken off his hat and poncho, revealing a thin, white, cotton Henley. His eyes were greener than they've ever been thanks to the color of the walls.

"Why don't you like Cassie?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I don't know, man. Because she's my girlfriend—"

"_Was_ your girlfriend."

"Okay, but when she _was_ my girlfriend, you didn't exactly take to her."

"Why the need to insert me so fully into your life?" asked Castiel. Dean's face fell at his heated words, and Castiel regretted them at once.

"Sorry, I just thought we were friends," said Dean. He looked away from Castiel.

"My apologies. I appreciate your friendship, Dean. I promise to be 'nicer' and get along with your next girlfriend." He used air quotes.

"Next one? I think it'll be a while," said Dean with a scoff. After a long moment, Dean looked up from his cowboy boots. "Does that mean you didn't like Cassie because of Cassie, or you didn't like Cassie because she was my girlfriend?"

Castiel's heart felt like it had lodged itself into his throat.

"I, just didn't get to know her well enough," said Castiel slowly. He willed himself to turn from Dean, to run away and ever look back, but instead he was frozen in his spot, eyes locked on Dean, an immovable statue like that first day he saw the man.

The only difference was that Dean had the same expression on his face as Castiel felt. Maybe it was that, or the fact that Dean took that very moment to lick his lips thus breaking the spell over Castiel, or maybe it was the fourteen straight hours Castiel had been inside the school, or hell, maybe it was those damn cowboy boots, but something made him do it.

Castiel walked up to Dean, placed his open palmed hands against the wall on either side of Dean's face, and kissed him.

Their chests didn't even touch. There was no contact between the two teachers, except for their lips. Before Castiel could sink into the kiss, almost as soon as his lips touched Dean's, strong and forceful hands were pushing him away.

"What the hell, man?" Castiel didn't fall or lose his balance from the shoving. He took a step back from the embarrassment of the situation, however. His ears pounded and his face burned. Castiel turned on his heel and left, practically flying out of there.

* * *

Cassie sat staring at her computer at home. She still had five articles to edit and she felt like she could pass out any minute. She was emotionally exhausted from the past week with Dean and her breakup, and two of her staff had retired last week. She was overdoing it, she knew, but better than stewing in her once again failed attempt to have a relationship with Dean Winchester. Though she never once could say she regretted a minute of it. Dean was a special guy. A little closed off about the intimate things, but he was kind, smart, and he was the kind of guy that would run into a burning building if he thought anyone was still in there. And, Cassie thought fondly, he was an amazing lover if nothing else. A familiar shot of desire woke within her. Maybe the two glasses of wine weren't the best idea on a lonely Friday night. Cassie's phone rang and she glanced at the caller id.

"Dean? What do you want? . . .No I'm not coming over for some booty call," she said, but her mind thought it over. ". . . Dean, okay. . . All right, I'll meet you at your place in fifteen." She sighed as she grabbed her car keys and left her five articles to be edited in the morning.

Cassie was waiting for Dean on his front porch when he pulled into the driveway. Before she could say anything about his cowboy getup, Dean pulled her into a passionate kiss. His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth.

"Dean?" she asked, pulling away.

"Just, just let me have this tonight, okay?" Cassie nodded. He dove in for another heated kiss and practically carried her into the house.

It was like Dean was on fire. He needed skin pressed against his skin. He needed lips against his lips. Tongue against tongue. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his lust that was burning right through him. They reached the bed and fell on it, clothes already half off. They didn't bother turning on the lights, which would have struck Cassie as odd if it weren't for Dean's ardent kissing and touching. Within seconds of their hitting the bed, Dean was already in her. Something about his feral desperation turned her on as soon as he kissed her out on the porch. He pushed deep inside her, his thick and large cock making her call out in the night. She called out his name, which prompted him to call out for her.

"Cas, oh God, Cas. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! CAS!" Cassie was in the throes of her third orgasm and didn't see how hard Dean shut his eyes, in fact they had been shut almost the entire time. He was lost in his mind's fantasy of blue eyes, black hair, and soft lips. He chanted her name into his darkness as he fucked her with more fervor than she ever remembered.

* * *

**A/N: Hi! Thanks for all the reviews, favorite, and follows! I hope you leave a review as it is encouraging. **


	7. Prepositions Can Really Pack a Punch

**A/N: I changed something in a previous chapter. It is Cas's FATHER's book, not his sister's. It is also a photo that's more like paper than a Polaroid.**

**Thanks!**

**Also, thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! It warms my heart!**

**I wish at Comic Con! Can't wait to see the uploads on youtube from the SPN panel after this weekend!**

* * *

Castiel was fucked. Not literally, that would have been the best case scenario of the outcome of the night. Instead he was metaphorically fucked, meaning he had just thrown away the best thing in his life in years, maybe ever.

"Why, why, why, why, why?" He kept chanting to himself as he paced his bedroom. It kept replaying in his head like a dvd in loop.

_He kissed Dean. Dean shoved him. He ran._

"Stupid!" He collapsed on his bed, a massive heap of nerves. He hid his eyes behind his forearm as if sheltering himself from the image of the memory. His phone buzzed inside his pocket, and for a second Castiel hoped it would read _DEAN _on the caller id.

_Unknown Caller_

Castiel accepted the call, a piece of him still arguing it _could _be Dean.

"Hello?"

". . . James. I've missed you." Castiel felt like he was punched in the stomach. He hung up on the caller, and took large, shaky strides until he reached his bathroom. He flung his cell phone into the toilet. With his whole universe crumbling around him, Castiel began to pack up his life, like so many times before, with almost scarily practiced action.

* * *

Dean and Sammy pulled into the parking lot on Monday morning. Sammy shot Dean a huffy look.

"What?" barked Dean.

"Dude, we're in the student parking lot. We're like a thirty minute walk from the front door!"

"So? You're the one always trying to be healthy. Now you're bitching about a little exercise?"

"What the hell has gotten into you? You ditch me on Friday, with _no _ride, you've been surly all weekend, and now you're changing parking spots for the first time in four years?"

"Surly? Really, _surly_? Who am I, Bobby?" Dean walked towards the school.

"Bobby isn't nearly as grumpy or snarky," muttered Sam. He caught up to his obviously pissed off brother. "Is this about Cassie? I thought you guys were getting back together. You guys were screwing like rabbits the whole weekend."

"What the hell, man? Were you watching?"

"No, Dean. You guys were loud. Like two mangled bears in the woods."

"No, we're not back together."

"So that's why you're pissed?"

". . .No. I'm not pissed." Sam scoffed as his brother scowled at. . . life?

"You're lucky Chuck didn't know you skipped out early at the dance."

"You're lucky you're my brother, otherwise I'd have punched your face in by now," muttered Dean.

"No, you're not pissed at all," said Sam with a roll of his eyes. Dean for his credit stomped all the way to his classroom, scowling.

Dean busied himself with the week's preparations. He absolutely refused to stand at his doorway today and greet the student body and staff of Sam Colt High School as was his norm. It didn't have anything to do with the blue eyed, gravelly voiced teacher across the hall. He wasn't avoiding the guy or anything. He was just really busy. With, like, work stuffs.

When the bell finally sounded, Dean gave his class a minute to find their seats. He cleared his throat after the late bell rang, ready to mold the minds of tomorrow. Dean started the very heavy Monday morning with a pop quiz. He was unsurprisingly greeted with moans. Dean however didn't let that faze him. It was a multiple choice question quiz after all. Well, for the most part. Dean smirked when the first student reached the final question on the back of the quiz. What a dick move to pull, but he just couldn't help himself. Dean threw in an essay question that was worth half the points of the quiz. By the time half of his class figured out his master plan, Chuck walked into the classroom.

"Mr. Winchester? Do you think I could have a word with you?" The class _'ooh'_d him as if he was getting assigned Saturday detention.

"Right now? I have a busy lesson plan," said Dean. His face felt hot and his heart began to thud much too loudly in his chest.

_There aren't security cameras in the teacher's lounge, are there?_

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes a himself. He hadn't committed a felony, for crying out loud. And besides, he knew _for sure _a little tonsil hockey in the teacher's lounge wouldn't get him in trouble. He had done much more in the past and had never gotten caught. Well, not by Chuck anyways.

"You know, Dean, I really need your help," said Chuck in much more hushed tones. Of course at this every teenaged ear piqued with interest and like a spotlight, the attention of the entire room was on the two educators, pencils held still. Dean followed the tweed clad principal outside to the hall where Castiel's entire class was waiting. Some sat on the floor by the wall opposite Dean's classroom's, some checking their phones for the time, while others kept craning their necks to look up and down the halls.

"Where's Cas?" asked Dean.

"I have no idea. I've called him twelve times, and it goes straight to voicemail each time." A flash of guilt washed over Dean.

"I don't know where he is," said Dean, a little too loudly, and a little too quickly.

"I don't, either. Listen, I know it's against policy, but I figured since you have the same subject and grade, maybe you could watch the kids until I get back? I need to make some calls for a last minute sub."

"Sure," said Dean. Chuck let out a breath and laughed nervously.

"You're definitely off the hook for cutting out from the dance early," said Chuck. Oh. Well, it turns out Chuck did know more about what went on in his school then he let on. Dean gave him an almost embarrassed smile he covered up with a masculine jut of his jaw.

"All right nerds, you're with me," Dean announced to Cas's class. They hooted, though he could tell they were still curious as to where was their usually early bird of a teacher. He called his own kids from his classroom and announced the change in plans. They can leave their quizzes on the desks to be finished tomorrow. Today they would be outside where it wasn't a fire hazard to have 47 kids with him. His class was ready to go in under thirty seconds, and Dean knew he was going to scrap the entire quiz.

* * *

Dean took his seat next to Sammy at their table during lunch. His sour mood from the weekend still clung to him, in spite of the delicious, savory bacon cheeseburger on his tray.

"Have you heard form Cas?"

"What?" Dean jerked his head up. His face was worked up, and Sam eyed him suspiciously.

"Cas? I had to cover his second and third period classes since my juniors were at a field trip. Geez, Dean, are your panties still in a twist?"

"My panties are perfectly fine," growled Dean.

"Are they silk, or classic cotton?" asked Jo as she and Charlie took their seats beside him.

"I'm going to go with lace," said Lisa. She winked at him, but he was so distracted he didn't even flirt back.

"You'd know," said Jo. She looked at Lisa disapprovingly. Lisa rolled her eyes.

"So where's Castiel today?" asked Charlie, trying to defuse the two women before they had a repeat of last week's verbal catfight. "I got asked to cover his fifth period. What do I know about Shakespeare?"

"I'm supposed to cover his last two periods," added Ash. They all looked at Dean expectantly.

"What?" He practically yelled. "It's not like he lives in my ass. I don't know where he is."

"Me thinks thou protest too much. Oh look! I do know a little Shakespeare!" Charlie clapped as she smiled.

"He didn't seem like the kind to just flake," mused Jo. "Hey Dean, do you know if he's seeing anybody?"

"Why would I know that?"

"Why are you being so defensive?" asked Sam.

"Why do you ask?" Lisa eyed Jo with daring in her eyes. It was Jo's turn to roll her eyes.

"Calm down, princess. You had the last two months to take a shot at it, but you failed. Besides, I need a new challenge." Jo sipped her soda with feigned innocence. Sam snorted into his burger. They chatted for the rest of lunch about the usual things, how Halloween was, whose house got teepeed, and Lisa and Jo traded backhanded barbs. Dean, however, was too lost in thought to really participate.

* * *

Dean and Sam sat in the sleek, freshly waxed from the day before, black, 1967 Chevy Impala. Sam grumbled from his seat as they sat and waited in the anarchy that was the student parking lot.

"How can there be gridlock in a parking lot?" Dean tried to ignore Sam. He turned up the volume. He needed to get the Led out. Sam huffed, but thankfully remained the rest of the time silent. When they finally reached Lawrence Blvd, Dean thanked the Gods of Rock in his head. Maybe he was too distracted with Led Zeppelin on the radio, but for some reason, instead of turning right on Jericho Ave, he made a left.

"Uh, where are we going, Dean?"

"Go see Cas," Dean grumbled. Twenty minutes later they made it to Castiel's neighborhood. The blue shutters beckoned to Dean in an almost mocking tone as if they knew. Not that there was anything to know. Shut up. Stupid shutters. Dean pulled in to an empty spot in the street a few houses down, though there was no car in Castiel's driveway like the last time Dean had come by.

"Maybe he keeps his car in the garage?" voiced Sam as if reading Dean's thoughts.

"He didn't the last time I dropped him off." The curtains were pulled close. Dean rang the doorbell while Sammy pressed his face almost against the window. There was no answer. Dean pulled out his phone and called Cas. Still nothing. "He's not home."

"Chuck said he didn't even get to talk to Cas." They shared a look and a hundred criminal investigation show scenarios popped up in Dean's mind. Dean pulled out a credit card from his wallet and got to work at the door while Sam looked around to make sure no nosy neighbor was spying on them.

Dean and Sam let themselves in. The house was in complete darkness. Sam flipped the closest switch to him on the wall and the loneliest lamp Dean has ever laid eyes upon turned on.

"Cas?" said Sam out loud. He and Dean found the living room practically empty except for the loveseat. There was no tv blancing precariously on any old stool. The kitchen was bare, too. There was a half empty carton of milk in the fridge, and about a dozen boxes of crap tv dinners in the freezer.

"Dean!" Dean ran through the master bedroom which was empty except for the bed with plain sheets, a solitary pillow, and one small bookcase void of any books, and a lamp pn a mismatched night stand. He found Sam hunched over the toilet and his eyes zoned in on the sleek, white iPhone that lay dead on the bottom of the bowl. They fished it out using the tail end of a never been used broom they found in a closet.

"Do you think something might have happened to him?" Sam asked. A cancerous lump formed in Dean's throat and refused to allow him to answer that. "I think we need to call the Sheriff." All Dean could do was nod and try to swallow the tumor of worry.

Sam was rummaging his pocket for his phone when they heard a rustling noise coming from the other room. Dean put a finger to his mouth and Sam nodded. He grabbed the broom that lay propped up against the wall, while his older brother swiftly grabbed the only reasonable thing he could find within eye sight: the living room lamp's twin on Castiel's nightstand. As he pulled it out of the socket on the wall, he must have made a noise because the stranger in the other room stopped making any noise. Sam and Dean signaled to each other as one hid on the other side of the wall next to the door, and the other grasped the silver door knob. Sam nodded and Dean flung the door wide open.

"Cas?" Dean's grip relaxed on the lamp, and Sam came out from behind the wall. Castiel's eyes were wide and his mouth was set in a hard line. Not that Dean looked at his mouth or anything. He had both hands reaching for something behind his person, his jacket scrunched up around his arms.

"Hey, Cas, it's okay. It's just Sam and Dean," cooed Sam. He had let go of the broom, and his hands were facing palms towards Cas in show of harmlessness. Cas's expression didn't change, and his body language mage Dean's heart twist in an unpleasant way. His expression was the same one Dean had seen countless times before on deer seconds before his father would pull the trigger on his hunting rifle. It was the look of resigned fight when the animal knew flight was no longer an option.

Sam took a tentative step forward. This was enough to shake Cas out of his momentary shock.

"What are you doing here?" asked Cas.

"We just wanted to check up on you," answered Dean. Castiel's eyes snapped and locked onto Dean's like two blue missiles zeroing in on their targets. "We got worried."

"So you broke into my home?" Cas's tone was harsh and it twisted Dean's heart again.

"Not really much of a home," he replied. Sam elbowed him, and he was reminded that it was not only him and Cas in the room.

"Are you in some kind of trouble? We can help you," volunteered Sam. Dean looked to his younger brother and saw the genuine concern and desire to help. Can high school teachers be canonized?

"I'm perfectly fine," answered Cas. He melted into a more casual form, but Dean could see it was just a practiced facade.

"Bullshit," said Dean. Sam and Cas were taken aback, in fact Dean shocked himself.

"Something came up, and I have to leave Sioux Falls. It's a family emergency. I suppose in all the rush I forgot to leave word with Chuck."

"You told me last month you don't have family," said Dean.

"It's a tense relationship. I meant that figuratively."

"No, you didn't."

"Dean, stop." Dean pried his eyes away from Castiel's and faced Sammy. "It's none of our business."

"That's very true," agreed Cas. But Dean was of a different opinion.

"It is our business. Dammit, Cas! Stop with all the secrets, and the whole mysterious past! What the hell is going on? If you're in trouble, fine! Sam and I will help you deal with it. It wouldn't be the first time we've helped someone, and it's perfectly okay to ask for help from your friends! Don't be such a child!" Dean's blood pounded in his ears. He had at some point balled his hands into fists. He knew he was yelling, but the tear of volume from his chest felt good.

"I am not a child, Dean!" Cas was suddenly in Dean's personal space, like Friday, though this was a different heat. "You know nothing. You're so wrapped up in your image to everyone else that you probably lost the potential of who you truly are years ago. The perfectly practised flirt, the jokester, the favorite teacher that never really accomplished anything more than winning Prom King, future town drunk, so handsome and great with women, but still a perpetual bachelor even in his early thirties? Tell me, Dean, how does it feel to know you are insignificant, and will always be insignificant? Knowing your greatest accomplishment in life will be the uncle to Sam's kids who they're embarrassed by?"

"By whom they are embarrassed," corrected Dean. Then he swung and punched Cas square on the jaw.

* * *

It took Sam and the business end of that broom to finally stop the fight between Cas and Dean. After that first punch, Cas didn't stumble off like some injured animal like Sam would have thought, instead he punched back with an accurate and heavy handed hook. Sam had to confess that if he had to choose the winner of the fight, it was Cas by a promising black eye, bruised ribs, and a fat lip.

The three men sat cramped together in the loveseat in the living room. Sam sat in the middle, like a long haired, puppy eyed Berlin Wall.

Cas held up a boxed prime rib dinner to his left eye, while Dean held up two frozen single serve chicken pot pies up to his face. Sam, in spite of the situation, couldn't help but smile with amusement.

"What's so funny?" snarled Dean.

"Sorry. It's nothing. I just haven't seen you get your ass handed to you since that time you tried to pick a fight with the entire fire department back in Lawrence. That was more than 5 years ago."

"I did not get my ass handed to me-"

"Oh, it was handed to you, Dean. On a silver platter." Sam felt and heard Cas chuckle next to him. "Look, Cas, we're sorry to, uh, break in. We were just worried. Look, we'll leave if you want." When Cas didn't say anything, Sam continued.

"But you know, we really would like to help you. I know we've only known you for a couple of months, but I guess, we've taken a liking to you. If you want our help, we'll help you as little or as much as you want." After what was an awkward stretch of silence to Sam, Castiel cleared his throat.

"I appreciate the gesture, but-"

"Goddammit Cas, just take our help!" shouted Dean, who sounded a little nasally.

"I don't know how you would be able to help me," said Cas truthfully.

"Just start from the beginning," said Sam. And in spite of his careful and private nature, Castiel started.

* * *

**A/N: Hi again! I do hope you leave a review! **


	8. Batman Jokes Mend Broken Bonds

"An old family friend called me on Friday, and I had to leave. It's really pretty simple," said Castiel, trying his best to skirt around the truth.

"And you just dumped your phone in the toilet?" asked Dean behind the now thawing chicken pot pies.

"Maybe I just dropped it and didn't notice," suggested Castiel. That's not a lie. He didn't actually say that's what happened.

"Maybe? Shouldn't you know?"

"Dean, seriously? What is your problem?" Sam glared at his brother.

"Look, I know when someone's dancing around the truth because they're scared. I've been a teacher for ten years. You sound like the kids that are getting the crap beat out of them at home, but they _insist_ they just fell down the stairs. So stop telling me you broke your arm because you're clumsy, and tell me who the hell broke it so I can help you." The pot pies lay on the floor and the full measure of Dean's hard stare was focused directly at Castiel.

". . . I have . . . a stalker." The words sounded silly to Castiel's ears. He was a grown man facing Dean Winchester, not some housewife on _Days of Our Lives _confessing a secret to Eric Brady. He felt his face grow hot.

"And he, she found you?" asked Sam gently.

"I don't know. He called me on Friday, and I have no idea how he could have gotten my phone number. I just couldn't risk it."

"Who is he?"

"He used to be a friend of my father's. He really was an old family friend," Cas said bitterly.

"Why did you come back?"

"I left something here. Something important," was all Castiel could reveal. His eyes however darted to a small tin box in the corner Sam hadn't noticed earlier.

"Look, you don't have to run. We know the sheriff. She'll help you. You don't have to be afraid anymore, Cas." Sam might as well have morphed into a chocolate Lab puppy right then and there. "Whoever this guy is, she'll put him away. Or get you a restraining order."

"I've had many against him over the years. It doesn't matter. I've blown through dozens of towns over the past thirteen years. It never matters."

"You'll stay with us until you feel safe," said Dean. Castiel felt a pull inside his stomach and looked at anywhere except for the Winchesters next to him. And to their credit, the Winchester boys looked anywhere but at the teary eyed man next to them.

* * *

Sam followed the Impala home. He felt strange to be driving Castiel's BMW, but he sort of liked it. It was a smooth drive, and the heated seats were oddly comforting. Yes the Impala was the most important car—nay, _thing_ in the history of the universe, but he couldn't exactly share one car with Dean forever. Sam looked into the rear view mirror out of habit, and took in the boxes stacked and shoved in the backseat.

"Poor Cas," said Sam aloud to himself. He thought about when Cas had told them he had been running for the past thirteen years and had lived in over _dozens_ of different places. Wow. Sam shivered at the thought.

How lonely that kind of life must be.

Maybe it was because Cas and Dean had gotten so close, and because Sam's kind of a softie, but he desperately wanted to help his newest friend. He didn't remember how his parents' friends helped his family when his and Dean's mother died, after all, he was only six months old, but he did remember how his family's friends came together to help them when their father disappeared five years ago. His hands gripped tighter around the designer steering wheel.

Sam Winchester was resigned to pay it forward.

* * *

Dean's foot rested on the brake pedal. He glared daggers at the red light in front of him, as if stop lights could be threatened into turning green faster. He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel to the beat of he Queen song playing in the car.

"What song is this?" asked Cas.

"_Save Me_ by Queen." Dean answered gruffly. Cas tore his eyes from the window and stared at Dean who was concentrating too hard at the still red light. Finally it turned green.

"I could have driven my own car. I know where you live."

"Yeah, because it's not like you're a flight risk or anything."

"A flight risk?"

"You're like some freakin' bird or . . . whatever else has wings. Sammy was serious about helping you, and it would break his heart if you didn't let him."

"And you?"

". . . I meant it, too." The song continued to play, and suddenly Cas didn't like the song as much.

_I hang my head and I advertise__  
__A soul for sale or rent__  
__I have no heart I'm cold inside__  
__I have no real intent_

_Save me, save me, save me__  
__I can't face this life alone__  
__Save me, save me, ooooohhhhh...__  
__I'm naked and I'm far from home_

"I wanted to apologize for the things I said earlier. I didn't mean any of it," Castiel started. "And for everything else."

"Hey, I royally ticked you off. I get it," replied Dean. "And, uh . . ." Dean's momentum faded and they sat in uncomfortable silence as the cassette tape reached its end.

". . . Bats have wings," said Cas, finally breaking the quiet.

"Dude, no. If anyone's going to get compared to Batman here, it's going to be me." Cas felt his cheeks widen. And just like that, they were friends again.

* * *

Dean pulled into his and Sam's driveway. The night crept earlier these days and the street lights were already turned on by the time they arrived home. Cas carried the two extra large pizzas as he made his way towards the Winchester home behind Dean.

"Just leave it, Sam," said Cas from the bottom of the porch steps. Sam closed the car door, but still carried with him one of the boxes labeled _Teacher Stuff_.

"Don't worry, Cas. I've got it." Sam smiled as he passed Cas to get inside.

Dinner was actually fun. Castiel could hardly believe that if he hadn't forgotten Amelia's stupid tin box, he'd probably be in some cheap motel right about now, a bottle of cheap booze for company. Instead he was sprawled on the almost ridiculously cofortable couch, belly full of pizza and soda, being yelled at by Dean about someone named . . . Delorean?

"I'm not sure who that is. Is that the Art teacher with the soul patch and toupee? The one that always smells like after shave and weed?" Castiel asked. Sam spit out some of the soda he had just been drinking. He continued his bark of a laugh as he wiped the glass coffee table with the free napkins that came with the pizzas.

"No! A Delorean is a car, Cas. You know, from the 80s? The suicide doors? Made by GMC? It was used by Doc Brown and Marty McFly to travel through time? Ring any bells?" Castiel squinted at Dean and turned his head slightly.

"I don't understand what you're saying." Dean's eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets.

"Cas, please tell me you're familiar with the epic, classic motion picture, _Back to the Future_!"

"No, I can't say that I am." Without another word Dean strode across the living room to the wall where there were towers, nay, _columns_ of movies. He pulled one out and proceeded to shove it inside the dvd player.

"Cas, you're going to love this," said Dean. His face was pulled into a huge smile that made his eyes (which were obviously lit with excitement) crinkle at the corners. Sam plopped himself down on the sofa next to Cas, eating his way through his seventh or eighth slice of pizza.

"This is one of Dean's favorite movies. Wait until he starts showing you his westerns," said Sam as a tiny yellow pineapple clung to the side of his mouth. Castiel couldn't help but smile.

"Shh! It's starting!" Dean turned off all the lights and took his seat on the black leather recliner. At some point between Marty finding the 1955 Doc Brown and his 1955 mom asking him to the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance, Sam had fallen asleep. The only reason Castiel knew this was due to the fact that the tall, puppy dog eyed man snored. Castiel tried to ignore it, but truth was he felt like he was watching a movie next to the Impala as it revved its engine. Fortunately for Castiel, Dean felt the same way and punched his brother on the arm which prompted the plaid clad teacher to get up and walk to his bedroom like a sleep zombie. He even grunted as he went.

When the movie finished and the credits began to roll, Dean yawned.

"So what did you think?"

"I kind of loved it," Castiel said. He swore he could hear the smirk on Dean's face.

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome. Tomorrow night we'll do _Back to the Future 2_."

"How many movies are there?"

"Just three, unfortunately. Man, I really wish they'd make a fourth one. I really think it'd make my life."

"Well, never lose hope." They remained in the dark, with nothing but the soft glow of the 55" tv in front of them. The dvd looped back to the main menu before Dean spoke again.

"So I guess tomorrow we'll take you to the station to talk to Sheriff Mills after school." Castiel could only sigh. "If you're more comfortable, I can probably just ask her to meet us here."

"No, I would rather go there." They sat without speaking, nothing but _The Power of Love_ hook playing repeatedly in the background.

"So let me show you to your room," Dean said. Castiel could hear the soft leather moving against him as he got up. The tv shut off and more darkness enveloped moonlight and street lights from outside seeped into the house, just enough so they could make their way through the dark.

"The couch is perfectly fine," said Castiel.

"We have a guest bedroom for a reason."

"For when you pick up wayward strays and offer to protect and shelter them?"

"Exactly," replied Dean without missing a beat. Castiel followed Dean upstairs. "You already know where the bathrooms are. Warning, Sam takes no less than a hundred years in there in the morning, probably to do his hair. We have spare toothbrushes, too, if you need one. We like to buy that stuff in bulk, so don't even worry about it. This is you."

"Thank you, Dean." Dean nodded, but wouldn't look Castiel in the eyes.

"I'm just next door. Knock if you want anything. I mean, _need _anything. Or whatever. Or Sam is that door there, so you can knock there, too, if you need. I mean, want." It was pretty dark so Castiel wasn't sure, but he thought Dean may have been a little red faced.

"I really appreciate this," Castiel said in a small voice. Dean finally looked up from his mismatched socks.

"No hallmark moment necessary. You're a friend, and we're going to figure this out with you. End of story."

"It's not much of a story if there's no conflict." Dean smiled.

"Okay, Mr. Novak. Save it for the students tomorrow." Castiel smiled back. They both headed towards their rooms. As Castiel was about to shut his door, Dean cleared his throat. "Is Castiel Novak your real name?"

Castiel looked into those green eyes and clutched tightly at the door frame.

"No," he answered. Dean merely nodded as if absorbing some trivial piece of information, like whether the temperature was 70 or 71 degrees.

"Goodnight," said Dean. Then he closed his door.

"Goodnight, Dean," said Castiel into the hollow hallway.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I made a Jensen Ackles joke! Did you catch it? I'll let you know what it was in the next update, in case you didn't!**

**The song by Queen is beautiful, and you should look that up right now if you don't know it, and if you do, you should listen to it right now and reread that scene. Or not. **

**Thanks for reading and I really appreciate the reviews, follows, and favorites! **

**I want to give a special thanks to ILoveSupernaturalcasismine, TheTimeLordof221bCamelot, darkshadowarchfiend, r2metoo, Maybaby34, blah2u2, dean-wants-the-assbutt, and all those that have left reviews in previous chapters! It really makes me excited to see and read reviews, as I am fairly sure most writers her on ffn feel. Thanks and it really inspires me to write the next chapter!  
**

**So the conflict is moving forward . . . I have the back story in my head, but I didn't want to drop everything all at once. I feel like Castiel wouldn't do that at this point in the fic, you know? What do you think?**

**Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! I love connecting to other folks on here!**


	9. Carpools and Joyrides

"I still don't understand why I have to ride with you."

"Because my baby is awesome, and your car is the Douche-Mobile."

"That's hardly fair, Dean. There has never been any sort of douching or douche related activities associated with my car," replied Castiel drily. "Can I at least ride up front after school?"

"No!" answered Sam and Dean together. Castiel grumbled in his seat in the back of the Impala as it pulled into its regular spot in the Samuel Colt High School parking lot.

* * *

"Mr. Winchester, what happened to you face?" asked one of the students in Dean's first period class. Oh, right. That's why people had been staring at him funny all morning.

"You should see the other guy," Dean said.

"I wonder what they would see?" asked a deep voice behind him. He turned around from writing on the blackboard and found a smug Cas standing in his doorway.

"May I help you, Mr. Novak?"

"Yes. I need to borrow your tv. Ours appears to be broken."

"Knock yourself out." Cas pulled the 20 year old tv and tv cart from the corner, and Dean watched him. He was wearing borrowed clothes from Dean, except for his jeans which were the same ones from last night. He wore one of his plaid button ups, but instead of it being loose and open like Dean normally wore it, it was all tucked in and buttoned up. "You look like a fancy lumberjack, Cas."

Dean's class laughed. Cas smirked for a moment, as if weighing his retort carefully.

"Funny, I was just about to say you look as if you lost a fight to a fancy lumberjack." The class looked from Cas's small cut on the bridge of his nose to Dean's black eye, and cut lip, and after a moment of confused silence, erupted in hoots and laughter. Dean's face resembled a bruised tomato.

"All right, all right, everyone get out their essays. Get into your groups." Dean walked over to the doorway as Cas pushed the cart into his own classroom. "Are you showing them the 60s movie version?"

"I'm showing them the one directed by Baz Luhrman featuring Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes," answered Cas. Dean nodded his approval. Both of them locked eyes as they stood in their respective doorways.

"Good choice. Can't go wrong with Leo. I think they'll like that one. When are you starting your next book?"

"Probably on Monday. You?"

"Maybe Friday, just to start them off on reading the first chapter."

"Well, I have something special planned for them on Friday."

"What is it, Mr. Novak?" asked one of Cas's kids from his classroom. Dean shook his head. He had almost forgotten both classes could hear their conversation.

"You'll find out on Friday! We'll talk later, Dean. Maybe your class would like to join."

"We'd love to!" answered one of Dean's students. Dean's and Cas's classes both laughed.

"Okay, we'll see!" Dean said to his class, who were delighted with his answer. "See you at lunch," he said to Cas before turning back to his class.

* * *

"So, Dean," started Ash as he and Cas took seats at their lunch table. "Rumor around school is our mild mannered teacher over here gave you that black eye."

"Where'd you hear that from?" asked Dean. "Was it Jessie from my second period?"

"Nah. Everyone was talking about it at the teacher's lounge." Dean rolled his eyes. Teachers were the biggest gossips he'd ever met.

"Want some concealer to hide it?" asked Jo with biting sarcasm.

"Shut up, Jo." Dean threw a potato wedge at her which she caught between her teeth. Cas laughed.

"Hey, Cas. Nice to have you back," said Jo, touching his arm briefly.

"Thank you. I feel I need to explain about Dean's appearance. Dean and I were 'rough housing' yesterday and I'm afraid I may have gotten too 'rough' on him," said Cas. Jo giggled at his air quotes. Her hand had found its way to his arm again.

"Where's Sam?" Cas asked, as he bit into his cafeteria meatball sub. Dean noted that he hadn't shrugged off Jo's attentions.

"He's just making some personal calls," answered Dean who was giving an extra effort in concentrating on his own sub.

"Oh," said Cas, understanding.

"Phone sex with Jess?" said Jo laughing.

"Pretty much," agreed Dean. Cas gave him the smallest of smiles that Dean took for gratefulness.

"Where's Lisa?" said Dean through a mouthful of meatball.

"Field trip, remember?" said Jo. "Thank goodness. I can't stand her. Too bad Charlie had to go, too."

"You do not have a meaningful friendship with Lisa?" asked Cas.

"Nope. I can't stand her."

"Oh. I suppose it's because your personalities are too similar?" Dean almost choked on his lunch. Ash raised an eyebrow and Jo looked furious. She dropped her hand from Cas's arm.

"What are you talking about?" huffed the petite blonde Math teacher.

"You're both independent, strong women. You're both are comfortable with your self image, and sexual identities. You're both confident, and easy going. You're both in the same profession."

"You guys do date the same kind of guys," added Ash.

"So?"

"So those same kind of guys are into both you."

Jo's mood for the rest of their lunch period was contemplative and quiet. Even when Sam finally joined them, she remained closed off. The bell rang to signal the end of the lunch period, and normally Dean and Cas would walk back to their classroom together, but today Cas told Dean to go on without him. Dean shrugged, but a scowl appeared on his face.

"Jo, may I walk with you?"

"I'm going the opposite direction."

"Yes."

". . . Fine, Cas." They walked out of the cafeteria.

"I apologize if I offended you. It was not my intent."

"It's okay. I mean, what you said makes sense. And it's not like I didn't like Lisa when I first met her."

"Well, what changed your mind?"

"Dean."

"Dean?"

"Yeah. He and I were kind of talking for a little while. I had a monster crush on him when I first met him. But then he and Lisa hooked up." Castiel absorbed the words. This information mixing with his questionable meatball sub was making his stomach turn in a very unpleasant way. "I couldn't hold it against him. He was going through a really tough time then."

"I see. It seems as if Dean has dated the entire town of Sioux Falls."

"Just about. You should see him on Open House nights. You'd think he was at a buffet. There are way too many single moms in this town. We never, you know, but Dean was special to me."

"I don't think there's any shame in that." Jo turned to face Castiel. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and smiled. Castiel blushed and stared at his shoes.

"You're an angel. Now get to class. You're late!"

* * *

"I'm Sheriff Jody Mills." The older brunette in uniform handed Castiel a mug of lukewarm coffee. He politely took it and drank. He set it down on the table in front of him, mentally promising his taste buds he would not be taking another sip. "The boys tell me you have a problem."

". . . Yes." The sheriff sat down on the other side of the desk. Castiel eyed the picture behind her in a silver frame. It was Dean, Sam, a grumpy looking man in a hat, and the sheriff in front of what looked like a cabin.

"That was taken last year. I've known the boys a long time."

"How long?" asked Castiel. This was easier than speaking about, well, the other thing.

"Five years or so. But I guess it feels like a lifetime ago." Castiel nodded. He almost took another sip of the murky coffee just to fill the pause. The sheriff waited patiently, not pressing Castiel.

"How long have you been sheriff?"

"Eight years next month." Castiel nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the closed door that would lead him to his exit. She waited another moment before she spoke again. "Mr. Novak, I can only help if you tell me what's going on. The boys are under the impression that you're in danger. But I can't, and I won't, force my help on you."

". . . I understand. I'm sorry. I think this is a mistake."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I—I am simply overreacting. I don't wish to waste the resources or time of the Sioux Falls Sheriff's Department."

"Do you pay your taxes, Mr. Novak?"

"Yes."

"Then it's your resource and time, and I'll judge if it's a waste or not," Sheriff Mills said. She continued to watch Castiel. He tried to maintain a calm demeanor, but his eyes gave him away. There was such undiluted fear in them that the sheriff was reminded of the first time she met Dean Winchester that lifetime ago. "I would like to help you. And sorry to break it to you, but I may not force my help on you, but you can be damn sure those Winchesters out there will. Trust me, you'd rather have me in on the loop then have those stooges do what they think is right without knowing all the facts." She gave him a small smile of encouragement. Castiel nodded. He started slowly.

"There is a man. I have known him many years. He was my professor back when I was in college for my Bachelor's Degree. He was a friend of my father's for many years before he passed away, and he took it upon himself to mentor me as a favor to my father's memory. I looked up to him. He was almost like a second father to me." Castiel swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat with every word. It was as if someone else was saying the words. "But, he became obsessed with me. He became erratic, and delusional. And finally, one day, he became violent. I tried to sever our ties. I moved several times, I even transferred to a couple of different colleges. But he always found me. I changed my name legally when I graduated with my Master's degree, but somehow he found me again. I've moved around for years, and I hadn't heard from him in more than three years, but last Friday I received a call. I believe it was him."

"And you tried to run again."

"Yes. It seemed the natural thing to do."

"Sweetheart," started the Sheriff. Castiel looked up and found her naturally no nonsense face molded into a maternal, caring one. "There is nothing natural about that situation. You deserve peace and security just like any citizen in my county. And my job is to ensure you have that."

Castiel nodded as Sheriff Mills took down his statement. She asked a few specific questions, and for the most part Castiel answered with as much of the truth as he could. She could tell he was keeping certain details from her, but she didn't push. A man who hadn't known peace or trust for the last dozen or so years . . . this was to be expected. She'd get all the facts sooner or later. She shook his and told him she would be in contact with him.

"I am staying with Dean and Sam for the time being."

"I'll call the house then. Since you no longer have your cell phone."

"Yes, I would appreciate that. Thank you, Sheriff."

"Call me Jody. I'll be seeing you around, Castiel. That's a strange name. Where did you come up with that?"

"It's biblical; just a lower ranking angel." Castiel shrugged.

"Like I always tell my junior deputies, importance has nothing to do with rank." She smiled at him as he left her office. He turned to face her one more time.

"Thank you, Jody." She nodded and he made his way towards Dean and Sam who were playing cards with some of the deputies across the small station.

"Boys! You better not be betting joyrides in my squad cars again!" shouted Jody playfully from her office. The deputies had guilt painted clearly on their faces as Dean swept the pot in the middle of the desk towards him.

* * *

**A/N: Last chapter's joke was the Dean Winchester vs. Eric Brady reference! Both are roles played by Jensen Ackles!**


	10. Glad I Didn't Die Before I Met You

November in Sioux Falls was the best month of Castiel's life. Living with the incredulously handsome brothers compared to living by himself was like comparing day and night. He hadn't lived with another soul since his dormitory days back at Yale some fifteen years ago. He assumed it would be an awkward mess that would no doubt result in him moving back to his ever lonely little house on the other side of town. Instead he found he fit with them like a missing corner piece of their puzzle, completing the picture. Castiel enjoyed the busy buzz of the brothers, so unlike the deafening silence of a bare house he was used to.

At school he was becoming a more popular teacher by the day with both the staff and students. His special surprise on that first Friday of the month turned out to be a loud, confetti-everywhere kind of party complete with handmade pastries, store bought candies, and sugar loaded punch. Dean's classes were more than happy to join, even his one History of Rock 'n Roll class ecstatic to "party it up" with Castiel's Poetry class. Castiel even let Dean choose the music they blasted all day long. Since it was Dean, and now the ever increasingly popular Castiel, their neighboring classes didn't complain. Besides, Castiel made special cakes for all the teachers in their hallway.

Castiel also found he drank less. The norm for him for the past handful of years was to fall asleep halfway into a bottle, but now his new norm was to fall asleep halfway into a Clint Eastwood film. Somehow Dean always knew the exact scene in which Castiel would drift off, and start it from there the next night.

In the mornings before school, he would join Sam in his morning jog around the neighborhood, then make breakfast and lunch for the three of them while Sam took his one hour in the one and only bathroom in the house with a shower. Dean, luckily for Castiel, took his showers at night after his workouts, just before dinner. This provided Castiel with a Dean-free time of day where he was able to grade papers and prepare for his classes. Then they'd eat dinner together, usually some healthy concoction of Sam's that at which Dean would scowl, but nonetheless eat. Then he'd put on whatever movie he chose to further his movie education of Castiel, while he and Sam graded papers and caught up with work, half watching the movie.

On the weekends, when Castiel used to find himself sleeping in until early afternoon, wrapping himself up in a book until he got too drunk to understand the words, he now found himself rising before dawn to join Dean, Sam, and Jo on early morning hikes, or attending Friday night football games, or spending Saturday nights at The Roadhouse. Sam explained to him one drunken Saturday night that it was strange to have such mild weather in November; that normally it would be at least slightly snowing by now, but then Sam was distracted by the song that came on the jukebox. Castiel, in his also drunken state, mused it must be miracle, much like anything the Winchesters touched.

When Thanksgiving rolled around, Castiel contemplated moving back in to his house across town, but Dean all but tied him to the dining table when he brought it up. It was apparently Winchester tradition to have (what felt like to Castiel) half the town over for Thanksgiving dinner. There was Dean, Sam, Castiel, Sheriff Mills, Ellen (the owner of The Roadhouse, plaid donning bartender at Sam's birthday, and as it turns out, Jos' mother), Jo, Chuck the principal, Lisa and her son Ben (from Castiel's first period), Ash, Charlie and her girlfriend, Cassie and (to Castiel's relief) her new boyfriend, a couple of reporters from the paper, Rufus the gym teacher and football coach, a couple of young deputies, and a gruff looking bearded man with a trucker cap and a no nonsense attitude who was called Bobby whom Castiel recognized from pictures around Dean and Sam's home.

How they all fit inside the 2,500 square foot home, Castiel would never know. Dean's face was lit up with such joy that Castiel silently promised that if all it took to keep that expression on Dean's face, he would gladly prepare five turkeys every day for the rest of his life. Ash stayed over that night, too full of beer, turkey, and pie to make it past the couch. Dean of course took the opportunity to draw a curly cue mustache on the sleeping Computer Programming teacher, and Sam added a mole on his left cheek the size of a dime. They looked to Castiel who sighed as he took the permanent marker and filled in the space between Ash's eyebrows to make the ever classic unibrow.

When they came back from Thanksgiving break back to school, the markings on Ash had faded, but were still clearly visible. He wasn't teased much, more celebrated by the surrounding staff and students. Apparently this too was part of the Winchester Thanksgiving tradition. Last year, Castiel was informed, Ash showed up to school with a faded lightning bolt on his forehead and round would-be spectacles marked around his eyes.

Castiel didn't think it was possible to ever have a more beautiful, and happier month in his lifetime.

Then December came.

"Aren't you ready yet?" Dean hollered up the stairs. "This isn't prom night!"

"Hold on, Dean!" Sam yelled back from upstairs. Dean huffed and came to sit down next to Castiel on the couch.

"He's such a damn girl, sometimes. It's already 10."

"The Winter Carnival doesn't close until 9 tonight, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time," said Castiel, trying to soothe the grumpy teacher.

"I know, man. I just like getting there early when the funnel cakes are the best." Dean involuntarily stuck out his bottom lip, just a fraction, but enough to make him look even more adorable to Castiel. He looked away, not wanting Dean to think he was staring at his lips.

The doorbell rang and Dean jumped up to get the door, anything to distract himself at how impatient he was feeling.

"Jess?"

"Dean!" The blonde woman threw her arms around Dean and he swung her around.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm surprising Sam! I can only stay for the weekend." Castiel walked over and shared a hug with Sam's girlfriend. She was a warm person, very open and friendly, and she had taken to Castiel. Dean grabbed Jessica's small suitcase and carried it inside.

"Thanks, Dean."

"Thank me by getting that moose of a brother of mine to get his ass down here so we can get to the Winter Carnival!" She smiled and walked to the foot of the stairs.

"Sam?" There was a beat of silence broken by the sound of stampeding hoofs upstairs. Sam took the steps three at a time until he landed in front of his girlfriend.

"Jess!" He kissed her and both Dean and Castiel looked away. "What are you doing here?"

"Surprise! I just couldn't wait until the 26th to see you. I've missed you, Sam." They kissed again, and it was intimate, and Dean had to clear his throat after a while to get them back to Earth.

"Do you want to go with us to the carnival?" Sam asked with so much enthusiasm that despite his large frame, Castiel thought he looked like he was twelve, and asking the girl of his dreams out on their very first date. Jess nodded with as much enthusiasm and googly eyes that Castiel, the tiny part of him that was a romantic thought them, in that moment, made for each other.

The entire town showed up for the carnival. Castiel, Dean, and Sam ran into half of their students while there. Mostly they just waved at them, and the kids waved back. Castiel bought Dean his funnel cake (or two) right when they arrived, and thankfully that was enough to raise Dean's mood from perdition.

Sam and Jess walked a little ways away from Castiel and Dean, trapped in their own little love bubble. Dean and Castiel for their part didn't seem to mind. They talked about everyday things, their students, their lessons, and Dean bought two giant corndogs, one for him and one for Castiel. They rode the rides together, ate cotton candy, popcorn, and more funnel cake. The only part of the carnival they avoided was the Fun House and Games section where the clowns roamed. Dean whispered to Castiel it was because Sam was deathly afraid of clowns.

"Let's ride the Ferris Wheel," said Jess as she pointed to the very center of the carnival where the Ferris Wheel stood.

"You guys go ahead," said Dean. "I think I'll go try one of those deep fried Oreo things."

"Dean's afraid of heights," explained Sam to Castiel.

"I'm not. I just really want a deep fried Oreo."

"Oh. I was actually really looking forward to riding the Ferris Wheel," said Cas. "But I suppose I can ride alone."

". . . No, Cas, you don't have to ride it alone," said Dean gruffly as he pushed past Sam and lead them to the back of the line.

Castiel climbed in first, then the brooding Dean took his seat next to him. The carts were compact and gave them only a little leeway in terms of room. Castiel tried to make himself as small as possible, pressing against the side of the blue cart. For the first time all day, there was a heavy silence between the two. The ride began to move to fill its seats, a slow march that stretched the silence between them further. Finally, when they reached the very top and stopped, Dean began to panic.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

"We're really high up, man." His jaw was clenched, and he gripped the silver pole that hung elevated above his and Castiel's laps so tightly that his knuckles were white. Dean had his eyes shut as well, the laugh lines around his eyes prominent with the force he used to keep them shut. Castiel's heart warmed just a little at the sight.

"Can I do anything?" Castiel asked, trying not to feel useless. Dean shook his head every so slightly as not to move the already slightly swinging cart.

"Just don't move," he whispered. The Ferris Wheel jerked as if it was about to move once more, but then jerked back. Dean's hand flew to Castiel's arm of its own volition. He doubted if Dean even knew he was no longer holding onto the silver bar. He looked down to the bottom of the ride and saw the ride operator scratching his head as he looked at the control panel. "Cas, what's going on?"

Castiel kept silent.

"Cas!"

"We've stopped. I think there may be a malfunction." Dean's grip on his arm tightened.

"We're going to die on a goddamn Ferris Wheel."

"Well, Dean, I'm glad I didn't die before I met you," said Castiel jokingly, but then again, maybe not. Dean opened his eyes slowly and took in the view from the top of the Ferris Wheel.

"Wow," Dean breathed. It was sunset and the entire carnival grounds were dipped in orange, reds, and yellows. The lights on the rides and booths were turned on, as were rows and rows of lights on tops of polls on the edge of the grounds. The people below looked so far away, and suddenly sitting in this beat up cart with paint peeling on the side with Dean while the other man had his hand on his arm was far too intimate. Castiel's breath hitched in his throat and he shut his eyes against the whole situation.

"Dude, are you feeling sick? You're not gonna yack on me and all these poor people below us, are you?" Castiel didn't answer him. Dean turned (slowly of course, as to not rock the cart) to Castiel and touched him on the shoulder. "Cas?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Castiel's voice was even lower than normal. He opened his eyes and put on a smile.

"Come on, Cas. No fake smiles with me, okay?" Cas dropped the smile and nodded. Dean turned to face forward again, but he had shifted and now he and Castiel's thighs were touching. Dean took his hand from Castiel's shoulder and placed it back on the safety bar, centimeters away from Castiel's.

They spent the next fifteen minutes at the top of Sioux Falls, completely quiet, and, in spite of the cold night setting in, burning up with a heat that neither acknowledged.

* * *

The last day of school before winter break fell on Friday, December 19th. Vacation days with the Winchesters were even better than regular days, if that were possible. _  
_

For one, Dean joined them in their morning runs. Second, Sam didn't cook on vacation days, which meant no more rabbit food for dinner. Third, Dean apparently didn't wear pants on vacation days, and instead spent most of his time in his boxer shorts and tee shirts.

The days leading up to Christmas had Castiel in perpetual, well, heat. He tried to "take care" of his problem during his morning showers, but there was no lock on the bathroom door for some reason, and Dean would casually stroll in to grab his toothbrush, or his towel, or razor. So Castiel would sometimes try to shut himself away in the afternoon in his room, pretending he wanted to read, but Dean would knock on his door and invite him to just read in the living room while he watched Doctor Who (at Charlie's insistence). Castiel would just end up watching with Dean, which wasn't a bad thing at all, except that it was. At night Castiel would try again when he was alone in bed, but the walls were so thin and the house so quiet, he was afraid Dean and Sam would hear him, especially since every piece of furniture in the house was decorated with jingle bells, including the bed posts. The Winchester brothers really took Christmas spirit to heart according to the way they decorated their house the way sugar loaded elves would.

So by the time Christmas eve rolled around, Castiel was so sexually frustrated that he skipped the morning run, feigning sleeping in. He watched Dean and Sam round the corner from his bedroom window before jumping in the shower.

The hot water washed over Castiel and he stood under it allowing his muscles to relax. He was already hard. He began to stroke himself, biting his lip as his mind wandered to thoughts of Dean walking around the house in last night's boxer shorts. They were red with reindeer printed all over them, and perhaps a size too small. Castiel knew he shouldn't entertain these thoughts about Dean, but dammit his libido didn't care at the moment about being smart. _  
_

And finally, in the hour he had the house to himself, Catiel was finally able to relieve himself, calling out Dean's name as he came.

In the evening, Bobby came by the house with three boxes wrapped in old newspaper. He brought take out from The Roadhouse, including a very special chocolate pie that made Dean drool just a little, out of the corner of his mouth. They ate dinner, Dean eyeing the pie the entire time. When it was finally time for pie, Dean volunteered to be the one to cut it and pass it out. Bobby rolled his eyes and followed him into the kitchen, making sure the pie was not left unsupervised with Dean.

"Oh man, I'm glad I ended up running this morning. I ate way too much tonight," Sam announced. He ate three times as much as Castiel, which considering he was three times the size of Castiel, he guessed it was all right.

"I'm glad I didn't eat that second burger like I originally wanted," said Castiel.

"Yeah. I can't tell if I regret eating it or not. I wish you ran with us, though. Dean was such a pain this morning. First he forgot his ipod, then when he went back to get it, he was all moody."

"He-what?" Castiel felt his chest constrict.

"We made it about two blocks and he went to put his headphones on and realized he forgot his ipod. So he went back to get it while I stretched."

"He went back. . . here?"

"Yeah. He said you were already up, but you were in the shower so he figured you wouldn't want to get all dirty again and jog with us. Dude, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm, actually no. I think I need to lie down." Castiel got up from his seat and headed upstairs to his bedroom, shame and humiliation warring within himself. He was so distracted he didn't even realize he had just referred to Sam and Dean's guest bedroom as _his_ room.

Not half an hour later, there was a knock on Castiel's door.

". . . Hey, Cas? It's Dean. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Dean. I just need some rest. I apologize about dinner, but you and Sam should spend some time alone with Bobby anyway."

"What are you talking about? Come on, don't be an ABC family Christmas special. Get down there so we can open presents." Castiel sighed knowing Dean would just eventually pick the lock on the door and barge in. He opened the door. Dean's face melted from a smile into confusion.

"I think it's time I go home." Castiel stood next to his packed suitcase, his trenchcoat and shoes on.

"What did we do? Look, I'll share the pie. I was just kidding about eating it all."

"It's not the pie, Dean. I'm afraid I've completely embarrassed and overstepped my boundaries towards you twice now."

"Cas, I have no idea what you're talking about. Look, all I know is it's Christmas eve, there's chocolate pie downstairs, presents under the tree, and if anyone's overstepped their boundaries, it's probably me. I've been whining at you to watch tv with me all week, and I promise I'll stop making you watch westerns from now on since I know you kind of hate them."

"I don't hate them, Dean. I just feel I've encroached on your hospitality long enough." Castiel began to hope that perhaps Dean hadn't heard what he was up to in the shower that morning. He may have just heard the tap going and left before Castiel had called out for him.

"Please, stay Cas. Tomorrow everyone's going to be at The Roadhouse for Christmas, and then Sam leaves the next day for California. Just stay until the school starts back up, please?" Castiel tried not to look at Dean's face, but that would have been as close to blasphemy as Castiel could come to.

". . . Of course Dean." Like he could deny Dean anything. He shrugged off his trenchcoat and followed Dean downstairs.

It turned out one of the packages Bobby brought was for Castiel. This was unexpected and made Castiel's heart wrench just a little. Or a lot, if he were being honest.

It was a blue plaid button up shirt.

"You're not officially a Sioux Falls citizen until you own plaid," was all Bobby said. Castiel immediately put it on, unbuttoned over his grey tee shirt. Castiel couldn't remember the last time he received a Christmas present.

"Now you're officially one of us," said Dean. "This one's from me and Sammy."

Castiel ripped the wrapping paper as an excited child would, and it revealed the board game _Sorry!_

"You told us the other day that it was your favorite game growing up. We thought, well, we didn't really know what else to get you," said a red faced Dean. Whether or not he was red faced because of the beer in his hand, or because it was kind of, as Dean would have put it, a "sappy moment," Castiel wasn't sure. But his heart felt so full at the moment, it didn't matter.

"Thank you. This brings me happy memories." Sam clapped him on the back to show him affection. Dean and Sam exchanged gifts. Dean had gotten Sam hair clippers which made everyone in the room laugh, and Sam had gotten Dean over the counter Herpes creme, which also made everyone laugh. They got Bobby a new trucker hat with which he immediately replaced the one on his head. Bobby got the boys each their own cheap bottle of scotch, which Castiel had a feeling had more sentimental value attached to it than he could have guessed.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't get any of you presents," said Castiel.

"Cas, putting up with Dean all school year long so that the rest of us don't have to has been present enough," said Sam. Dean threw some wrapping paper at his brother's face and Castiel laughed.

By the time Bobby went home, Castiel was sound asleep on the couch, exhausted from experiencing the best Christmas memory he had ever had.

On Christmas morning, Castiel woke with a crick in his neck from the couch, but was still in the best spirits he had been in years. Sam took his hour long regiment in the bathroom, while Dean and Castiel sat on the couch waiting to leave for The Roadhouse whenever Sam came down.

"What's wrong with your neck?"

"I believe I slept on it at an uncomfortable angle last night." They stared at each other a little too long. Dean got up and walked behind the couch behind Castiel.

"Let me," he said in a low tone. Dean rubbed Castiel's shoulders. "Relax," Dean commanded. Castiel closed his eyes and did as he said. The electricity in Dean's touch mixed with the undoing of the crick in his neck turned Castiel into goo. He might have moaned a little as he felt he knot melt away, but Dean never ceased with his motions.

"Isn't that better?" asked Dean.

"Yes. Thank you," was all he could muster.

The Roadhouse was packed. Not only was everyone from Thanksgiving dinner there, but also a handful or two of Saturday night regulars, and even some strangers passing through the city.

There was a large, obviously fake Christmas tree in the corner. It was spray painted white and adorned with bright colored ornaments and overloaded with tinsel. On the top of the tree was a Ken doll in a suit and trenchcoat.

"It's supposed to be you," said Ellen as she poured him a beer. "Every year we pick one of us to be the angel on top, and this year it's you." She winked at him as she went back to the bar to get more beer. Castiel smiled as he continued to stare at his plastic doppelganger.

Christmas at The Roadhouse was like nothing Castiel had ever experienced. Old black and white Christmas movies played on the old tv set in the corner of the bar. Conversation flowed as heavily and easily as the beer. They traded stories the way children traded baseball cards in the summer.

"Does this piano work?" Castiel asked as he stroked the worn wood frame. The chatter had fallen into a comfortable lull, aided by the sizable dinner of three large hams, and half a dozen side dishes.

"Yeah, I think so. I don't think it's been tuned in years, though," answered Ellen.

"Would you mind?"

"Knock yourself out." Castiel sat down in front of the piano. He tested one of the keys, then another.

"Do you play, Mr. Novak?" asked Ben, milkshake in hand.

"A little. Though, it's been quite a while."

"Cassie plays," said Dean suddenly. Castiel looked up from the discolored keys on the piano and tried to read Dean's face, but couldn't. Cassie (whom Castiel had noted did not bring her boyfriend) walked over to the piano and took a seat next to Castiel. She looked up into his face as if to ask for permission. Castiel waved an open hand towards the piano to encourage her.

"This is Dean's favorite," she said. She began to play _Greensleeves_. Everyone clapped when she finished. Well, almost everyone.

"Excuse me, but I believe _this _is Dean's favorite," said Castiel. Then he began to play _Travelling Riverside Blues_ by Led Zeppelin. Castiel never sang in front of other people, at least not since Amelia, but tonight he was apparently just a bundle of testosterone.

Sam was so impressed he put down his third helping of mashed potatoes and just stared at Cas, wide eyed and open mouthed. Lisa grabbed Ash and they danced. Ellen pulled Bobby and forced the old grump to dance with her. The rest of the party was more than happy to enjoy the music.

When he finished the song, the entire room blew up in applause.

"Wow, Cas. That was. . ." Dean tried to find the right word, "_Badass_!" Castiel blushed, mentally kicking himself for showing off. Really, what would that accomplish?

"That was impressive," offered Cassie. "Do you know any Christmas songs?"

"I think I'm done for tonight," said Castiel.

"No! Come on, man, play something else!" Dean whined. He got up and walked over to the piano and leaned against it. Castiel looked down at the keys once more, not daring to look at Dean.

"Well, I suppose. But only if the rest of you sing." The bar cheered and that's how they ended up caroling Christmas songs (and a few classic rock songs) late into the night on Christmas.

* * *

Sam left for California to visit Jess the day after Christmas. Castiel realized he and Dean hadn't spent an extended period of time alone since Halloween when they drove back home from after dropping off Sam at the airport. The time they did spend alone, Sam was always just one room over. The air inside the Impala was heavy. Sure, the heater was on full blast because it had started snowing three weeks ago, but how would that explain the terse silence? Dean blared Foreigner to mask the tension, and Castiel was grateful.

That night they watched a _Die Hard _double feature in keeping with the Christmas theme Dean had installed in their nightly movie a week ago. Thankfully Dean had donned thick sweat pants that night instead of his usual boxer shorts.

Castiel was tired as he crawled into bed. As he was about to drift off into sleep, he heard a moan from the other side of the wall. His eyes snapped open and Castiel was suddenly very much awake. He held his breath and strained his ears. There! He heard another moan. It was unmistakable.

His whole body caught on fire.

Dean Winchester was jerking himself off on the other side of the wall. Castiel sat up on the head of his bed and pressed his ear against the wall. He knew Dean's bed was pressed against this same wall in a mirror layout.

Castiel closed his eyes and pictured Dean naked from the waist down, pleasuring himself. He could hear Dean, though muffled, through the thin wall.

_"Ohh,"_ moaned Dean. Castiel shivered.

_"Fuck, yes! Take my cock in your mouth." _Castiel pulled his dick out from his pajama pants. In the dark Castiel could pretend it was him Dean was fantasizing about.

_"Suck my dick good, yeah. Ohhh!" _Castiel's breath was ragged. He spit into his palm and spread the wetness all over his hard member.

_"Gngg,"_ Dean grunted. Castiel stroked faster, imagining with vivid clarity Dean thrusting into his own hand, making these noises with abandon. Then he pictured pinning Dean against the bed and having him make those dirty grunts and moans for him. Castiel was so enraptured by his fantasy he didn't realize he let out a moan until there was only silence in the house. After a pained moment in which Castiel thought his perversion had been discovered, Dean moaned. It was loud and Castiel didn't need to press his ear into the wall to hear it.

Dean kept moaning loudly, obviously close to his release. Castiel stroked faster, trying to keep in time with Dean. Dean let out one last moan that Castiel could have sworn reverberated all through the house, and Castiel came a moment later. He had the best night's sleep he'd had in years that night

Castiel woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Dean greeted him when he entered the kitchen. Castiel let out a sigh of relief. "What's wrong, Cas? Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes. I slept soundly." Dean handed him a cup of coffee and a plate full of bacon and eggs sunny side up. "Thank you."

"I slept like a friggin' baby!" Dean whistled _Travelling Riverside Blues. _He grabbed his plate and sat down in front of Castiel. His smile was bright and wide, and the crinkles around his eyes made Castiel's heart thump. Dean's hair was mussed from sleeping and probably a couple of weeks past his normal haircut. Castiel couldn't help but think Dean never looked more handsome than now, basking in the bright morning sunlight, wearing a comfortable grey shirt and an easy, open expression.

They ate in silence as Castiel tried not to remember the reason Dean and he had such a good night's sleep.

"Thank you for breakfast, Dean. I'll do the dishes." Castiel got up and Dean followed him into the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just helping you," said Dean innocently, which of course caused Castiel to be suspicious. Dean leaned against the counter next to Cas as he washed the dishes in the sink, and made small talk. Castiel fell into easy conversation but almost swallowed his tongue when Dean, in mid conversation, reached over and gently caressed his cheek.

"Dude, you got bubbles on you," was all the explanation he gave.

When they spent their afternoon shoveling the snow in the driveway, Castiel had brushed off the touching from earlier as just a friendly interaction. Once the chore inevitably turned into a snowball fight (which Dean won), Castiel tried to explain away the way Dean went up to him and gently brushed the snow away from his hair.

"There's snow in your hair."

Again, just friendly interaction between friends, right? The evening passed by without any further touching.

The day after that Dean and Castiel went out for breakfast. They decided to stay out and watch a movie. Castiel dragged Dean to the old theater downtown that was playing _It's a Wonderful Life_. They took their seats in the nearly empty theater. Even though they had just eaten a big greasy, diner breakfast, Dean still bought the large bag of popcorn, Twizzlers, and a large soda. While they waited for the movie, Castiel gave in and had a handful of popcorn.

"Do you think I have time to get a soda before the movie starts?"

"It's about to start. Just share mine." Castiel looked to Dean and after a moment took a sip from the soda. A couple of times during the movie their fingers both reached for the straw and brushed against one another. Dean never seemed to mind, so Castiel put it away in the back of his mind. Dean began to get antsy halfway through the movie and shifted so he was more comfortable in the seat. His knee ended up resting against Castiel's.

When Dean came up with a funny comment, he leaned towards Castiel and whispered it his ear. Dean's hot breath sent shivers down Castiel's body.

"You cold?" Castiel shook his head and stared hard at the movie screen. Dean chuckled softly next to him.

When they came back home Dean announced he was going to take a shower. Castiel was glad to get a moment away from Dean to gather his wits about him. Unfortunately Dean walked into Castiel's room, hair still slightly dripping wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his hips to ask him a question about the movie.

"Cas?"

"Uh, yes. George Bailey was in the, uh, the Alfred Hitchcock movie," Castiel managed to get out as he followed one particularly large bead of water make its way from Dean's jaw to his collarbone, to his chest, over his perky nipple, through his defined abs, and disappear into his towel. Dean nodded and then left the room satisfied with his answer.

That next night Dean decided it was time Castiel learned to play poker. Castiel picked it up quick and Dean was excited at what this meant.

"We can start a weekly poker night!"

"That would be fun."

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Have you ever played strip poker?"

"This is the first time I've ever played poker."

". . . So, no?"

"No."

Dean nodded, satisfied with his answer.

The next day, Castiel had a dentist appointment, then spent the rest of the day in the library trying to avoid Dean. He didn't see him until dinner that night which passed by without incident. Castiel went straight to bed. He told Dean he was exhausted and needed to catch up on sleep. He got ready for bed and fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Castiel woke up. According to the digital clock on the nightstand next to him it was just a little past midnight. He heaved himself out of bed and opened the door.

"What do you want, Dean?"

"I, uh, thought I heard something. I'm just checking to make sure you're okay."

Castiel stared at Dean, dumbfounded.

"I'm all right."

"I'm all pumped on adrenaline. My heart is going a mile a minute." Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and placed it on his chest. Castiel felt the hard muscles there. He felt the fast thumping of Dean's heart, and knew it was in sync with his own.

"Yes," he said gruffly. "Your heart is erratic." They stood there for a long time, Castiel's hand on Dean's chest, and Dean's hand on Castiel's hand to keep it in place. Finally Dean let go.

"Goodnight." Then he retreated back into his room.

The next day while Castiel sat on the couch, wrapped in a dark blue fleece blanket, immersed in a book, Dean began to complain about his neck.

"What's wrong?"

"My neck. I think I slept on it funny." Castiel hesitated. Dean continued. "Like the way you did last week."

". . . Would you like me to try and ease your discomfort the way you eased mine?"

"Sure, Cas. If you don't mind putting your book down." Castiel placed his book on the table and disentangled himself from the blanket.

He stood behind Dean and placed his hands on the nape of his neck. He began to rub the skin, eliciting a man from Dean. The sound shot straight to Castiel's cock. Dean unabashedly groaned and made small noises of contentment. Castiel was so hard his hips began to move against the back of the couch. Castiel's hands flew off Dean.

"I have to go upstairs," was all he said before practically bolting up to his room.

New Year's eve came and Castiel was relieved to find out that Charlie, Ash, Jo, Bobby, and Rufus were coming over to welcome in the New Year.

Dean looked handsome in his dark suit with no tie and fancy leather shoes.

Castiel could have almost hugged the first guests to arrive to break the tension. Though Castiel doubted Rufus and Bobby would have appreciated that. Dean and Castiel avoided each other the whole night. Castiel listened to Ash and Charlie discuss hacking techniques and computer software, spoke to Jo about her father who passed away when she was just a little girl, and even managed a conversation with Rufus about baseball strategies for the team this spring. When it was just minutes before midnight, Dean excused himself to get something upstairs.

"Cas! Can you help me up here?" The ball was about to drop in New York, but Castiel couldn't think of a reason not to follow Dean's voice. When he reached the top landing, he was pulled into the linen closet. Castiel could hear the room downstairs begin to count down.

_"10!"_

Dean shut the door.

_"9!"_

"Cas," Dean whispered. They were face to face.

_"8!"_

"Dean," Castiel replied.

_"7!"_

Dean leaned closer. They were only centimeters away from each other now.

_"6!"_

Castiel looked at Dean's lips.

_"5!"_

Dean licked his lips.

_"4!"_

Castiel did the same.

_"3!"_

Castiel inhaled.

_"2!"_

Dean's closed his eyes. So did Castiel.

_"1!_"

Dean kissed him.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was 6,278 words! **

**_Glad I didn't Die Before I Met You_ are lyrics from "First Day of My Life" by Bright Eyes. **

**Check out my Military!AU called _Flyboys_ where Dean is a lovable, but troublemaking Marine, and Cas is part of an arrogant and elite group of fighter pilots. It all takes place aboard an aircraft carrier out to sea!**


	11. Dean Winchester Does Not Swoon

"Happy new year," Dean whispered when he pulled back from the kiss. He gave Cas a smile before leaving the linen closet. He rejoined the party downstairs pretending his heart wasn't hammering madly inside his chest.

"Happy new year!" Dean chorused with everyone else. He inserted himself among the cheering and noise makers, passing around hugs and pats on the back as if he'd been there the whole time. Cas joined them moments later. Through the reflection of the mirror on the wall Dean was able to catch a look at Cas's face without making eye contact. He was blushing and looking everywhere, but Dean's direction. His eyes were wide and his hands kept rubbing the back of his neck, and loosening his tie as if it were chocking him.

"All right, all right. Everyone calm down for a moment. I want to hear everyone's resolutions!" announced Rufus as he popped a bottle of cheap champagne. Bobby was passing around its cheap plastic champagne glass counterpart.

"I'm getting a girlfriend this year," said Ash as Rufus filled him up. "Maybe it's time to settle down and hang up my hound dog ways." Dean laughed.

"I'm going to refrain from hacking into any government systems or programs for this whole year." Ash raised his bubbly towards her to show his empathy of how hard of a resolution that would be.

"The Samuel Colt Phoenixes are taking the damn regionals this year in baseball, dammit!" Rufus proclaimed. "Come on, Bobby. Your turn."

"Well, I guess it's a good time as any. I'm going to pop the question this year." The entire room burst into happy congratulations. The gruff man flushed, and then shrugged them all away muttering about "idjits" and "balls".

"Castiel, it's your turn," said Charlie.

"I don't have one. I don't usually make New Year's resolutions," he confessed.

"It's all right, Cas. I'll let you piggy back on mine. This year I'm going to introduce Cas to _Star Wars,"_ said Dean. Neither one of them looked at each other, not even when they all clinked plastic with each other and toasted to the promise of a happy year ahead. Charlie, Rufus, and Bobby left around one in the morning, around the time Ash and Dean took out the karaoke machine and sang off key, yet passionate renditions of mullet rock. By that time Ash and Dean were so drunk they barely registered the goodbye hugs Charlie gave them. Cas sat on the couch, content to be the audience in this sloppy concert. Ash ended up passing out on the couch like Thanksgiving, while Dean snored from his leather recliner.

In the morning Dean and Cas dropped Ash off on their way to the airport to pick up Sam. A block away from Ash's house, Dean asked Cas to change the music. He told him where to find the tapes in the glove compartment.

"Maybe some Led Zeppelin to start the new year right?" Cas nodded. He still hadn't looked at Dean all day. When he pushed in the cassette into the tape deck, Dean's hand found his. Dean kept his eyes on the road and kept silent as the beginning notes of _Stairway to Heaven _started. He dropped their hands to rest in the space between them, entwining their fingers as he did so. Cas didn't question any of it, not one bit, as they drove off. They stayed like that until the airport.

* * *

"So what did you two do while I was gone?" asked Sam later that night while Dean picked out their movie for the night.

"I taught Cas Texas Hold 'Em."

"Yeah? Maybe this means Dean will finally be able to have poker night."

"Hell yeah, that's the plan! How about _Batman Begins_?" Dean turned around to gauge their feelings on the matter. Sammy shrugged.

"Just a warning, Cas. Dean is going to get pretty weird. He's a little in love with Batman."

When Sam fell asleep a third way into the movie on the couch (which Dean fully expected, after all the giant hadn't stopped moving since they got home, and seriously jet lag is a very real thing), Dean moved from his recliner to the spot next to Cas on the loveseat. He sat so that their shoulders touched. After a few minutes, Dean turned to whisper in Cas's ear.

"You smell nice." Again Cas shivered as Dean's hot breath blew against the side of his face and neck.

"Thank you," he rasped back. He was sitting up straight and his face almost painfully focused on the tv. Dean smirked.

"So do you still want to move back into your old place?" Cas turned his head to face Dean. He was still leaning towards him and now their faces were as close as they had been back in the linen closet.

"No."

"Good. Because I want you right here." Dean licked his lips and Cas's eyes fell to them like a predator swooping down on its prey. The skin on Dean's face felt hot, and his brain became hazy except for the part that wanted to lean in to be closer to Cas. He felt the world shift around him and suddenly he was inching towards Cas's lips.

_"Grrrrrrrruuuuggghhhh." _Sam turned over on the couch.

"I better wake up Sammy and send him to bed. Can't be late for the first day of school tomorrow," said Dean. He got up and poked Sam on the ribs. After some shuffling and more poking, Sam got up and made his way upstairs. "I swear he's like half zombie," said Dean when they heard Sam shut his door.

"I should get to bed myself," said Cas. He stood up, and in the moment and a half it took him to do so, Dean managed to find words.

"Or you could stay here and make out with me."

Okay, so it wasn't exactly Shakespeare.

Cas's wide eyed look of shock only increased Dean's desire for him. Neither dared move. Finally, Cas spoke.

"That would be better." Dean walked up to him, but he wasn't sure what to do with his hands when he got there. He chuckled at himself. He hadn't been this unsure of his body since he was fifteen.

"Do you want to sit down?"

"If you prefer," answered Cas. Dean nodded because he was sure his knees where going to give in soon. They sat down and faced each other. Dean reached over and placed his arm on the back of the loveseat. His other arm lingered in the air for a moment until he finally settled it on his own thigh. Cas kept his hands together in his lap. They briefly caught each other's eyes, then both blushed and looked away.

"Geez, Cas. We look like a couple of scared freshmen." Cas's mouth turned up into a small, but easy smile.

"We _are _a couple of scared freshmen, Dean." That was enough to calm Dean's butterflies in his stomach. At least enough for him to take a deep breath and take the plunge. He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss Cas's lips.

He missed.

They both fell to pieces in quiet laughter.

"I thought you were supposed to be some sort of Casanova?"

"Yeah, me, too. I don't know, Cas. You just make me nervous. I feel like I'm in the sixth grade and this is my first kiss."

"Dean Winchester, the picture of confidence and self assurance, nervous?"

"Only around you," said Dean in a small voice. The air in the room immediately thickened and the two men stared at each other. They leaned towards each other, this time both of them aware and prepared for it.

They kissed.

It was slow and soft. Dean's mouth seemed to fit just right with Cas's. Dean's lips spread open as he worked his mouth against Cas who accepted Dean's kiss with equal pressure with his wide and plush lips. He let himself drown in the feel of Cas's mouth. Each time he delved intyo a deeper kiss, Cas would just kiss back with the same desperation. Finally Dean could no longer hold back and his hands found Cas's waist. His body begged him to get closer, and he headed.

In a flurry of hot kisses and whimpers, Dean's mind could only hold on to two thoughts: _Cas _and _closer_.

Cas's own hands were wrapped around Dean's back, forcing their chests against each other. Dean could feel the heat grow in his groin, but couldn't remember how to gain friction there, he was so wrapped up in Cas.

"Cas, geez. You're so hot," said Dean through heavy breaths.

Castiel took this time to worship Dean's jaw line all the way to his ear. Dean moaned when Cas followed the trail of the most outer part of his ear with his tongue in a sinfully slow motion. Dean may have shivered, he wasn't sure. Cas's lips and tongue moved down and found a spot between the juncture of Dean's jaw and neck that ripped a gasp from the green eyed man's chest. Dean felt him smirk and then he stationed himself there at that spot, making base camp.

Dean unraveled.

Like a sweater with a loose thread, or a book with a broken spine, Dean unraveled.

He was moaning uncontrollably, his hips humped air until finally he found Castiel's thigh. Cas held his ground and kept nipping, sucking, and licking against that spot on Dean's neck. His strong arms held Dean close while the other man's roamed all over Cas; his arms, his back, his hair. Dean gripped those soft locks tight in his fist as Cas worked him. He didn't realize how hard he tugged at Cas's hair, but it only seemed to encourage Cas.

Dean threw his head back as Cas aligned their hips, then proceeded to grind into him. Dean was on his back on the too small loveseat before he knew it, and all he could do was bite the top of Cas's ear as they dry humped.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy," Dean whispered. He could hear how rough his voice sounded. Cas moaned and Dean felt a hot jolt of lust curse through his body. "I'm so fucking hard, Cas."

Dean felt Cas grind into him harder, less controlled, desperate for friction.

"You like it when I talk like that, Cas?"

"Yes," groaned Cas. Dean bit his lip at the sound of Cas's voice. It was already rough, but now it was dirty and private, and only for Dean.

Dean grabbed Cas's face and pulled him in for a kiss. Their mouths opened wide and tongue lapped against tongue, hands roaming freely, wildly at each other.

"You're so fucking hot. You've got my dick so hard," whispered Dean. He watched with wide eyes as Cas sat up, eyes closed, hair mussed, lower lip caught between teeth. He began to grind against Dean with abandon, their barrier of clothing still on separating their heated skin. "Do you want me, too, Cas?"

"Yes. Dean, I-" Cas's words failed him, but Dean wanted to hear him. His name never sounded so sexy as when Cas threw it out in the throes of such lust.

"Tell me."

"Dean-" Dean bit his lip. "-I've wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you."

"How?" Dean sat up and kissed Cas's neck while the blue eyed man continued to grind their hips. "How did you fantasize about fucking me?"

"I imagined you kneeling in front of me, sucking me off while I held onto my desk for support," Cas confessed. "I thought you were some Greek god when I first saw you. I've never seen anyone as handsome or as perfect as you."

"Fuck, Cas. You're so fucking sexy. Fucking nerdy, awkward bad ass. What did you do to me?" Before Cas could answer with what he would like to do with him instead, a giant thump sounded on the floor above them.

They scrambled apart with Cas jumping into the empty recliner across the room. Sam came downstairs, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you guys still up? Don't forget we can't be late, Dean. Death is supposed to have a reaping tomorrow."

"Yeah, Sammy, I know. We were just about to go upstairs," said Dean. Sammy nodded as he yawned, then headed back up the stairs.

"Night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Sam. Pleasant dreams."

Dean and Cas exchanged blushes when the moose like teacher disappeared up the stairs.

"It _is_ pretty late," said Dean.

"Yes."

They stared at each and Dean chuckled nervously again.

"You know, tomorrow Sammy has a thing at Bobby's, so that means we'll have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours." Dean could feel the heat spread across his face.

"Oh. Good," Cas replied, not able to help the smile spreading across his handsome features. "That's good."

Dean gave him a shy smile before they headed upstairs to their own respective bedrooms.

* * *

Black patent leather shoes, black wool overcoat hanging on broad shoulders, black fitted suit, black slicked back hair, black eyes, black cane, and a sunken demeanor strolled through the halls of Samuel Colt High School. The sea of students parted, naturally making (and staying out of the) way of Death.

"Why do you call him Death?" asked Cas after the superintendent and Chuck passed his and Dean's classrooms.

"Because Chuck just about dies every time that guys visits." Dean flashed a smile at the teacher across the hall as a wave of scurrying students scrambled to get to class. Cas smiled back with a faint blush that stirred the butterflies in Dean's stomach. Actually, let's say it stirred the bats in Dean's stomach because that sounds less girly, and no matter what had transpired yesterday, Dean Winchester was not a girl.

Yeah, bats. . . Dean could work with that. He was like the Batman of Sioux Falls anyways, so . . .

Dean's classes dragged on for what felt like forty years. Thoughts of bats and Cas's mouth kept distracting him, which wasn't too bad as his students all seemed to still be on vacation mode. Still, they all trudged through it together, starting the new year fresh with _The Great Gatsby_. Dean's last class before lunch let out, and before Dean could gather his things, he felt a strong grip on his arm.

"Cas."

Dean's eyes darted to the now closed door, then up to the blue eyes that stared intently at him. Cas leaned down and kissed him hard. Thankfully he was sitting down otherwise he may have done something unbearably embarrassing. Like swoon.

And seriously, Dean Winchester did not swoon.

Swooning was for Disney princesses, and for love struck school girls, and not for manly men with muscles, and stubble, and testosterone.

Then Cas's tongue entered his mouth and suddenly all thoughts of swooning fell from Dean's mind.

Just as Cas's hand began to roam the flat planes of Dean's chest, the door knob jiggled and both teachers jumped apart. Dean scowled and crossed to the door, opening it to reveal Death and Chuck on the other side.

"May we come in?" asked Death.

"Sure thing," said Dean. He stood by Cas as both men entered his classroom.

"Mr. Richings, this is Mr. Novak. He teaches freshman and sophomore English, and Poetry across the hall," said Chuck, jerking his thumb in the direction of Cas's classroom. Cas and Death shook hands.

"Pleasure. We need to speak with Mr. Winchester privately."

"Of course," Cas said.

"I'll meet you at the table," said Dean. He awkwardly punched Cas on the shoulder. All three men in the room looked at Dean with cocked eyebrows. Dean cleared his throat and smiled weakly. When Cas left the room, Chuck and Death rounded on him.

"Am I in trouble?" Dean suddenly wondered if he could have done anything recently that would warrant a private visit from the superintendent. There was that pie incident at the senior art show, but that was two years ago. Maybe that softball thing with those dickheads from the next county over? No, that was last year. Surely there was a statute of limitations on pranking douche bags?

"No, Dean. It's actually the opposite." Chuck beamed at him. "You've won South Dakota Teacher of the Year."

". . . Holy shit."

"Yes. Well said. I'm here to personally congratulate you on this crowning achievement, as well as inform you that you are expected to accept this honor in two weeks in Chicago," said Death.

". . . Is this a joke? Are you pulling my leg?"

Death actually rolled his eyes.

* * *

_"Shut up!"_

_"Congratulations, Dean!"_

_"Wow, man. Good job."_

_"Are you sure they have the right Winchester?"_

Dean shushed his lunch table, not wanting the whole school to find out. "I know, it's unexpected. I can't believe it, either. I asked them if they were sure, if there was another Dean Winchester, or if they meant Sammy, but then Death smacked me on the shin with his cane. He said it was an accident."

"Dean, you're an amazing teacher. Shut up about not believing it," said Sammy.

"So what now? Do you get a trophy or a fancy award ceremony?" asked Jo. Dean answered through his first mouthful of turkey on rye, eyeing his watch as he did so. The talk with Death and Chuck lasted longer than he expected.

"I have to go to-" Dean swallowed, "to Chicago in two weeks. I'm supposed to accept a check from the state for the school. Thirty thousand dollars."

"Whoa, Dean. Whose going to decide where that money goes to?" asked Lisa. Dean shrugged.

"Chuck, I guess."

"Yeah, because Chuck is so good at making decisions that will displease anyone," said Sam. "He'll probably end up holding one of those staff meetings that lasts all day until we decide among ourselves. Remember last Spring when we spent two hours debating what color to paint the teacher's lounge?"

"Rufus has been pushing for new uniforms and fixing up the field," said Dean.

"But band hasn't had new instruments since I started working here," added Charlie. "And what about the Drama department? They never get any funding. The traveler curtain is half patched up with duct tape!"

"We still haven't replaced Science Lab C since that small fire Dean set three years ago," said Ash.

The rest of lunch passed with Dean shoving as much of his sandwich into his mouth while the rest of the table speculated who might get the funding, and who _should_ get the funding. Under the table, where no one could see, Dean and Cas's knees touched, simultaneously reminding and promising them both of stolen kisses.

Today was certainly a good day for Dean Winchester.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was meant to be a lot longer, but I was so excited to update. The next chapter will be longer, over 5k words at least, and I think this is a good spot to split it. Plus there's some smutty smut smut in this chapter, so it's not all bad, I hope.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, I am overwhelmed by the positive response from last chapter. I was especially proud when I completed that chapter, and I feel like you guys can feel how much effort was put into it! Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and comments! I am encouraged, especially with the comments. **

**Special thanks to it-will-be-anarchy, and MatildaMavis! **

**Oh! And I have a tumblr now. CassiopeiaMercutio dot tumblr dot com! I want to follow more blogs, and if anyone knows any good Destiel fanart blogs, let me know! Also, I want to start testing out story ideas through there, so find me and let's be internet friends! I need a fanfic soundboard. **


	12. Just to Meet Me in the Morning

Dean pulled at his tie, loosening the noose as he shifted his weight between his feet. His toes ached at the tightness of the leather dress shoes. He longed to slip them off, wondering if anyone would notice with the white table cloth over the table. Dean shook the thought from his mind, it would be just his luck to be caught shoeless at this stupid ceremony like some horrible Cinderella nightmare. He took another swig of his scotch to fill the time until he could duck out.

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean looked up and found a young kid with floppy hair that covered half of his face, anywhere from fifteen to twenty five staring at him with a panicked look on his face

"What's wrong?" Dean made to get up, but the young man sat down opposite him instead.

"Hi. My name is Kevin Tran. I'm head of the South Dakota Teacher's Union."

"You're like twelve."

"I was in advanced placement." Dean continued to stare questioningly at him. "I just wanted to apologize for the mix up about your ticket tomorrow."

"What mix up?"

"Oh. You don't know yet." Dean sighed and finished off the scotch in his glass.

"Go ahead and lay it on me, Kevin."

* * *

Dean flopped himself on his hotel bed, shoes, jacket, and tie still on. He had a nice buzz going, but that was an hour ago. Now he felt painfully sober and facing the prospect of an extended flight with two layovers. Why would they let interns handle flight details? Dean groaned at the thought. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed out a text.

**Hey. Bad news. My flight's screwed up. I won't be home until after 10 pm tomorrow.**

Dean stared at the screen until he got a reply, thanking the universe Sam managed to hold onto all of his old phones and had a spare for Cas to use.

_**So you're telling me you're breaking our lunch date tomorrow?**_

Dean smiled, turning himself around to lay on his back.

**Are you going through Dean withdrawals already?**

_**Yes. **_

The simple and unabashed reply made Dean's stomach do flips. He pulled himself up and leaned against the headboard, unaware he was smiling so broadly.

**Of course you do. I'm adorable.**

_**And modest.**_

Dean let out a laugh as he typed his reply.

**I miss you, too.**

_**Do you? There are so many more interesting characters in Chicago than a boring English teacher like myself.**_

**You also teach poetry, and hey! Watch it! I'm a boring English teacher, too.**

_**You're not boring, Dean. You're the most exciting person I've ever met.**_

Dean hesitated before punching in his reply.

**You excite me, too, Cas. In fact, I'm pretty excited right now.**

Dean waited with bated breath for the reply. It was five minutes later when Cas replied.

_**Sorry. I had to excuse myself from Sam. I'm in my room now.**_

**Me, too. I'm lying in my bed. Wish you were here. ;)**

Dean made a face at his text winky face. He was going for flirty ad sexy, but it looked more to him like something a twelve year old girl would put on her blog.

_**What are you wearing?**_

Oh, good. Cas didn't seem to mind it.

**My stupid suit.**

_**The fitted black one, with the blue banker's button up shirt with the white collar?**_

**Yeah. Suspenders and everything.**

_**The yellow tie with the blue diagonal stripes? **_

**Geez, Cas, are you hiding in my closet?**

_**I came out of the closet years ago, Dean. Can you send me a picture?**_

**Of me completely dressed like some stuffy sales manager? Ok, hold on.**

Dean walked over the full length mirror hanging on the wall. He snapped a picture, then another when he didn't like the first one. He sent it to Cas.

_**Hot.**_

**Seriously? I'm completely dressed! My shoes are still on for crying out loud.**

_**I thought you liked role playing? You have a dozen costumes in your closet.**_

**Yeah, but that's for Halloween and stuff.**

_**Not for sex? Oh, Dean, the things I'm going to introduce you to. . .**_

Dean's pants immediate tightened at reading that last text. Dean didn't even realize he was laying back down on the bed again.

_**Dean, when you wore that cowboy costume. . . I couldn't help myself. **_

**Yeah? It was the poncho, right?**

_**Uh. . . **_

Dean chuckled.

**Well, if we're confessing things. . . I jerked off to you the night after Sammy's bday party.**

_**You did? What did you think about?**_

**I was still a little drunk and hungover, but basically I thought about humping you and having you jerk me off in the bathroom at the Roadhouse.**

_**Are you trying to get me hard?**_

**Is it working?**

_**Yes.**_

Dean smiled, texting with one hand while he rubbed his erection through his dress pants.

**ME TOO**

_**Are you yelling at me?**_

**Sorry, one handed typing.**

_**And what is your other hand doing?**_

Dean almost replied, but then realized he was holding a _phone_.

"_Dean?" _said Cas on the other line.

"Hey, Cas. I got tired of texting." Dean heard the other teacher chuckle on the other line. "I really wish you were here."

"_Me, too."_

"So what are you wearing?"

"_Nothing." _Dean's entire being stilled at that word.

"What?"

"_I'm naked, Dean. I'm lying in my bed, buck naked, hard as hell and thinking of you."_ Dean swallowed thickly. He kicked off his shoes and proceeded to shimmy out of his restrictive pants.

"Fuck, Cas. You're driving me crazy. Can you send me a picture?"

"_We can skype, you know."_

"Yes! That's why I like you so much. Your huge brain."

"_That's not the only huge thing about me." _Dean had to bite down on his lower lip to stiffen a moan. _"Dean?"_

"I'm here. I'm still here. I'm dying to see you, Cas."

"_You'll have to hang up."_ Dean sighed.

"Okay. It's worth it. See you soon."

"_See you soon." _They hung up. Dean was completely naked now and stared at the unflinching screen of his phone. The seconds ticked by until Dean was caught with a sudden realization. He chuckled at himself and tapped on Cas's contact to skype with him.

"_What took you so long?" _Cas grumbled. He was wearing Dean's Kansas band tee shirt and grey pajama bottoms. His hair was disheveled worse than usual and Dean wanted desperately to run his fingers through it.

"I thought you were supposed to call," mumbled Dean. He was suddenly feeling vulnerable. Dean grabbed a pillow and placed it on top of his lap. "I wish I brought my laptop so I could see you better."

"_Dean, are you blushing?"_

"I thought you said you were naked. You wearing my shirt?" Cas looked down.

"_I was naked, but waiting for you, I got cold, and, uh, paranoid Sam would come up here. and catch me? And__ I figured you wouldn't mind about the shirt, but I can put it back."_

"No, I like it. If I didn't know any better I'd say you missed me." Cas opened his mouth to reply when a knock sounded at his door. He put his index finger to his lips then scooted off the bed, causing the laptop to bounce. Dean could hear the soft thud of footsteps on hardwood, the rustling of the door knob, and the opening of the door.

"_Hey, Cas. Sorry to wake you up," _Dean heard Sam's familiar voice.

"_Hello, Sam. I was already awake. Is everything okay?"_

"_Jo's here. She's downstairs and she's freaking out. I need you to talk to her for a little while. Look, I'd stay up with her until she calms down, but the thing is Jess is having some sort of thing and I'm supposed to call her in like 2 minutes. Could you please just sit with Jo until I finish with Jess? Please?" _Dean didn't need to be in the room to know Sam was directing his puppy dog gaze towards Cas.

"_Yes. I'll be down in a minute."_

"_Thanks, man!" _Cas's face popped back into Dean's screen.

"So I guess I'm getting another rain check?" Cas offered him a smile.

"_I really do miss you, Dean."_

"Yeah, me too. All right, I'll talk to you later." Dean sighed deeply as he flicked his phone on the pillow next to him. He closed his eyes and before he knew it, he was dreaming of Cas in his _Kansas _shirt, wearing cowboy boots.

Dean woke up grumbling. There was a loud knocking on his door and he had forgotten to shut the blackout curtains last night so a spotlight of sunshine was blinding him. He grabbed his dress shirt from last night that lay in a crumpled heap on the chair near the bed. Dean looked around but couldn't find his boxers anywhere. He fastened a couple of buttons and decided he could just hide his lower half behind the door. The knocking commenced again, even louder this time.

"Hold on!" Dean choked out. He cleared his throat, a scowl etched on his face. He pulled the door part way open.

"Hello, Dean."

"Cas?" Cas smiled sheepishly at him, both hands shoved in his pockets. He wore jeans, one of Dean's tee shirts again (_Led Zeppelin _this time), and that tan trenchcoat he always wore to school.

"Surprise?" Dean pulled the door open all the way and pulled the shorter man into a hug. He inhaled Cas's scent, which he found mixed with the smell of leather and staleness. "Maybe we should go inside." Dean nodded, but kept him in the tight hug anyway. Finally Dean pulled back and allowed for Cas to come inside the hotel suite. He closed the door after he made sure to put the _Do Not Disturb _sign on the door knob.

"What are you doing here?"

"I missed you, and I thought you might prefer driving back home rather than taking two flights."

"You brought baby?" Dean's face was stretched as wide as possible.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind me driving her."

"Wait, did you drive all the way from Sioux Falls? That's a nine hour drive." Cas shrugged. He took a sit on the messy bed and stared at Dean with the same sheepish expression on his face as earlier. "You drove all night just to meet me in the morning?" Dean found himself walking towards Cas, and before he knew it, he stood over the sitting man, taking his scruffy face into his hands.

"You're not wearing underwear," observed Cas. Dean chuckled, breaking away from the potential chick flick moment.

"Let me grab my—" Cas's hands held Dean in place before he could turn away. Dean was painfully aware that Cas sat at eye level to his ever hardening cock. He tried to breathe normally, but he could hear himself pant. Cas looked up at Dean, his eyebrows pushed together and up, as if asking some unvoiced question. He licked his lips and exhaled through his mouth. The resulting breath brushed against Dean's now fully formed erection.

"Dean, I," Cas started. He pushed the rest of the words from his mouth, "I want you."

Dean Winchester, who was all man, who drove a 1967 black Chevy Impala, who blasted AC/DC as he drove down the highway, who could bench press 300 pounds, who finished two triathlons, who hunted, who fished, who drank cheap beer, who won Most Eligible Bachelor in Sioux Falls five years running, ladies' man, all muscle and charm, swooned.

If it weren't for the strong hands gripping him tight, he would have fallen in a delicate faint, he just knew it. All he could do in that moment was nod. Cas smiled up at him, licked his wide lips again, and took Dean in his mouth.

The sensation of the warm, wet mouth overloaded Dean's brain. His hands found Cas's hair and shoulder, and he used the other man to leverage himself up. His knees were shot and his legs were jelly.

Cas took him inch by inch, swallowing as he went. When he took all that he could of Dean, he sucked, and Dean had to shut his eyes at the intensity of it all. Cas began to bob up and down on Dean's dick, setting a pace that wasn't nearly fast enough, but painfully, perfectly slow enough to drive Dean crazy. He din't even realize how loud he was moaning, or how hard he was pulling Cas's hair. All he could register were the following things:

_Mouth._

_Wet._

_Hard._

_Cas_

_Good._

_Cas._

_Want._

_More._

_Cas._

_Cas._

Maybe Cas could tell Dean was not in control of his body, because he flipped Dean so that he was now lying down on the bed, face up. Cas was on his knees next to the bed, absolutely _worshiping _Dean's dick.

Dean was gripping at his own hair, writhing freely. Cas took his hands off those perfect hips and allowed Dean to buck into his mouth with abandon. He moaned as he watched Dean completely fall apart. He held the back of Cas's head, fingers laced through those soft, dark locks as if he would die if he let loose, even a little. Dean had no rhythm as he thrust into Cas's mouth and the trenchcoat donning man knew he was close. When Dean came (which he did loudly while calling out Cas's name), Cas swallowed and lapped up all that he could.

"Fuck, that was even better than I imagined it," confessed Dean as he fell from his orgasm induced high. He pulled Cas up to the bed with him. He stared into those big blue eyes and found an expression he knew he himself had worn over the last few weeks.

Dean smirked as his hand grazed the bulge in Cas's pants. He stroked him through the coarse fabric of the jeans, exploring the new experience.

"Holy shit, Cas. You're so fucking hot. I got off so hard. Snnsss," he winced. His greedy cock tried to start up again. He kissed Cas on his collarbone, rolling himself so that the other man was flat on his back while he was able to angle himself on his side. He took his time undoing the button on Cas's jeans, then again lowering the zipper. Cas was the one whimpering now. "You're trying to keep it together," cooed Dean. "Too fucking bad, because I'm going to make you come undone."

Dean sucked and bit at Cas's neck as he pushed down his jeans and underwear. Cas tried to lay as still as he could, and Dean took this as goading, daring him to make good on his threat/promise. Dean took off every article of clothing that separated him and Cas, save for his dress shirt. He went slow, enjoying how Cas was trying desperately to show how unaffected he was by the teasing. Dean smirked into the dip of Cas's hips.

He wanted Cas to lose his goddamn mind.

Dean lifted himself to kiss Cas on the mouth. Once Cas began to buck underneath him, he broke their kiss apart and nibbled on the blue eyed man's ear, then made his way down to his neck, tracing his name with his tongue all over Cas's body. He bit and teased his nipple, eliciting small whimpers from the other man. When he finally reached Cas's cock, Dean stared at it, then up into the other man's eyes. The way he looked at him, one would have thought Dean was the only thing in the universe. Dean licked his lips unconscious of his own actions. Cas was panting, the lack of touch unraveling him more than he thought should have been possible.

"Cas, I've never sucked a cock before, never wanted to. But goddamn, I'm going to make you come inside my mouth." And before Cas could moan at how sexy these words sounded, Dean gobbled up the hard dick in front of him.

Dean allowed all of his desires to overtake him. He didn't shy around, he wanted and he took. He experimented with different techniques girls used on him over the years, and even got creative with mixing up a few things from his fantasies. It was wet, it was loud, it was handsy, it was tantric, at times it was past obscene, and it was the dirtiest sex Dean had ever had.

Needless to say, Cas lost his goddamn mind.

* * *

The drive back to Sioux Falls was, if Dean could use any word, _easy_. He drove (of course), blasted Zep, some CCR, and some Sabbath. Cas caught him up on things at home; Ash's new found fascination with Mexican wrestling ("Lucha Libre," Cas informed him), Charlie's new single status, Jo's building tension with Ellen, Sam's new and almost inedible healthy recipes, and of course the students.

"I've missed a lot in three days," muttered Dean.

"I feel guilty."

"Why?"

"I've robbed everyone else of telling you what you've missed," voiced Cas as he changed out tapes.

"Don't worry about it, Cas. I'll let everyone tell me all about what I've missed, and I'll even gasp at all the right times, and laugh at all the punchlines."

They stopped at dingy little diners off the freeway, devouring plate sized bacon cheeseburgers, comparing them to the cafeteria special Dean was so fond of, and arguing about _The Great Gatsby_. Dean forced Cas to eat a slice at pie at all three diners they visited; cherry, key lime, and apple with a slice of cheddar cheese.

Honestly, it shouldn't have taken half a day to make it back home, but between the extended diner stops, impromptu make out sessions on the side of the dirt road that led to the freeway, and Dean purposely prolonging reaching their destination, there was just no possible way to have made it home in the eight hours it normally would have taken Dean to get there.

When they pulled in to the driveway and Dean shifted baby into park, he stayed seated, the engine still running, the Led Zeppelin tape finished miles ago.

"What's wrong, Dean?" He looked into those blue eyes and sighed.

"This was great. I actually love road trips, like I was made for them, or something."

"Maybe in another life you lived on the road," suggested Cas. Dean smiled.

"What about you? You think you would have been right there with me? Shotgunning it through the continental United States?"

"I doubt Sam would let me ride shotgun." Dean laughed.

"Hey Cas, I was thinking about something."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Dean punched him on the arm.

"Come on, man," he chuckled. "I want you to tell me if you want to move back to your old place."

"Would you prefer that?" Cas squinted as if this would make Dean's words clearer.

"It's not what I want, Cas. I just want you to know that just because you live here with me and Sam, you don't have to, you know, with me. You're in this tough spot with the stalker thing, and I feel like I'm swooping in and taking advantage." Halfway through his words Dean had began thumbing the steering wheel and staring at a smudge on glass of the windshield. There was no response right away, which caused a dropping sensation in the pit of his stomach. Then a warm hand found its way on top of Dean's.

"I have wanted you since the moment I saw you standing in the hallway. To find out that such a beautiful man is even brighter, warmer, and more beautiful on the inside, why, no, _how _could I ever not want you?" Dean looked up and found a squinting, head tilting Cas looking at him like he was a book written in an extinct language. "And to have," Cas looked away taking his and with him, "-to have you look at me, to see me, it's almost too much. It _is _too much. It verges on absurd."

Dean was about to reach out, to touch Cas's stubbled jaw and turn it towards himself, but a loud knock on his window made both of them jump.

"What the hell are you guys doing sitting out here? Come inside!" Sam shouted. He was muffled by the rolled up window and rumbling of the Impala, but nonetheless he effectively ruined the moment. Dean rolled his eyes and turned off baby, knowing Sam would stand there and wait for them to get out of the car.

Sam congratulated Dean with a pat on the back as they headed inside. Dean shouldered his duffle bag, and all three went inside. Within exactly two seconds of walking inside the house, Dean understood why Sam came out and got him and Cas.

"Well, I have a skype date with Jess, so I'll be going upstairs," Sam announced. He bounded up the stairs like some overgrown, mutated Superman.

* * *

"I don't know, Jo."

"—It's like she doesn't see that I'm not a child anymore, you know?"

"Yeah, I—"

"—I'm not perfect, but it's not like she's Mrs. Brady!"

"I get what—"

"—Okay, so I don't want to be her, I want to be my own person. Is that a crime?"

Dean finally sighed and just nodded his head, popping the tab on his third can of beer of the night. He looked to Cas next to him who had given up speaking and trying to comfort Jo half an hour ago. They locked eyes and Dean smiled at him. Jo continued to pace up and down the living room, ranting about her recent blowout with her mother.

"_Guhhh!" _Jo huffed loudly as she plopped her tiny frame on the couch between the two men. "I can't go back there. I just can't. I'm turning thirty years old this year. I still live with my mother for Christ's sake."

"What do you think will make you happiest?" asked Cas. Jo mulled over his words carefully before she spoke.

"I think I want to move out. I know my mom's going to be pissed, but after today, I just need time away, you know?" Dean nodded. The revelation of family secrets was always a tough subject to handle.

"How do you feel about, you know, _it_?" asked Dean.

"My dad turning out to be alive and out there somewhere living another life? Finding out that the man I idolized and worshiped my entire life is actually just another deadbeat who abandoned my mom and me without a second thought? I'm _awesome_." Cas handed her the box of Kleenex on the end table next to him. She glared at him and he shyly put it back.

"So, I'm going to throw a frozen pizza in the oven because I'm assuming your ass is staying here tonight? And something tells me we aren't done talking?"

"Thanks, Dean." He walked over to the kitchen and made their whatever meal come after dinner and before breakfast. When he came back, Jo and Cas were shotgunning their beers.

"Hey! What about me?" Dean swung himself over the arm of the couch back to his original seat. Jo curled her arms through both Cas's and Dean's, then rested her blonde head on Dean's shoulder.

"Why do you think my dad left us?"

"I don't know," answered Dean. "You know I'm probably not the best to ask about dads, Jo."

"What about you, Cas? How was your relationship with your dad?" Dean tensed, painfully curious about Cas's history. Cas didn't answer. Jo sighed.

"Come on, Cas. Enough Batman, more Bruce Wayne."

"Whoa, _I'm _Batman here!" said Dean.

"Fine! Enough Superman, more Clark Kent! Enough Spiderman, more Peter Parker! Look Cas, let's make this easy," said Jo, her face flushed. "I just said something personal, now it's your turn. One secret for another. If you want, Dean can go before you."

"What?" Dean huffed, but he looked into Cas's face to see if he would go for it. Cas remained silent. "I got arrested when I was seventeen for setting off fireworks on the roof of my high school."

"Oh my God, Dean!" Jo laughed. Cas cracked a small smile.

"I once stole a police car when I was fifteen." After a small pause, Jo's cackling laughter rang inside the home, while Dean looked at Cas with something akin to awe.

"Are you trying to one up me?"

"Wait, wait. My turn!" said Jo, sitting up. "Let's see, oh! I was the one who set fire to Science Lab C three years ago."

"Goddammit, Jo! I had to teach summer school for the last three years because of that!" Jo was chortling, and even Cas was chuckling softly.

"What? It was an accident!" They spent the next thirty minutes trading "secrets". The pizza may have been a little burnt around the edges, but it was good with beer and conversation. When Sammy came down after his 'date', in a new shirt, Dean observed then shook the the implications out of his head, they switched to soda and continued swapping secrets.

"I don't friggin' believe it," huffed Dean.

"It's true. I had a fling with my Civil Rights teacher at Stanford. It was before Jess, obviously."

"Before Jess? You two started dating when you were twenty two."

". . . Yeah." Sam blushed while Jo hooted.

"How old was this professor?" She waggled her eyebrows.

"She was forty three," he confessed. Dean sputtered his root beer. "I don't regret it."

"I bet she taught you a few things, huh, Sammy?" Dean winked at his brother.

"Maybe as much as Rhonda Hurley taught you?" Sammy replied without missing a beat. Jo cackled, clutching her sides.

"Who is Rhonda Hurley?" Cas questioned. Dean's face burned red, while Sam guffawed in his seat.

"Oh God, that's right. Cas, I love having you around. You're the only one that doesn't know this story, and I have _missed_ telling this story. Okay, so when Dean was nineteen, he dated this girl, Rhonda Hurley. She was a real shy type. She volunteered at the library, never wore make up, never dated anyone in high school, real shy type, you know? Her nose always buried in a book. So Dean starts dating her, and we lived in a small town. And everyone was really surprised that such a 'nice girl' would even give Dean the time of day. Well, one day I come home from debate club early, and I walk in on them. And," Sam had to take a moment to compose himself. "Okay, so I walk in and Dean is freaking wearing nothing but these bright pink, silk panties!"

Sam and Jo explode in laughter. Cas looked to Dean who was so red in the face, it could have been the shade Charlie used in reference for her stylist.

"I was nineteen! She was hot, and I thought it would get me inside her pants," Dean yelled dejectedly.

"You got into her panties all right," quipped Jo. "Were they really silk?"

"Satin," answered Dean, smiling a little. Jo and Sam laughed harder, and he looked up to see Cas's reaction. Cas merely looked at him curiously as if trying to piece some sort of puzzle together. "As quiet as everyone thought her, no other girl has ever asked me to do that."

"Would you, though?" Jo asked with a wink. Dean rolled his eyes dramatically, but couldn't quite hide the smile that appeared on his lips.

"All right nerds, it's three thirty in the morning, there's no more pizza, and we all have class in a few hours. I'll take the couch. Jo, _mi cama es su cama_." Jo sighed, but didn't argue. She'd known Dean long enough to know it was futile to argue with him about the sleeping arrangement. They all said their goodnights, Jo and Sam heading upstairs to catch a handful of 'Z's before morning broke in.

"I think you should take the guest bedroom," said Cas.

"Good luck with that!" Jo yelled from the bottom of the stairs as she began to climb them.

"No, Cas. It's not a guest bedroom. It's _your_ bedroom." Cas waited until all the shuffling upstairs stopped before he spoke.

"We could share," he spoke. Dean chewed the idea in his mind.

"I guess as long as I get up before those two jokers upstairs, it wouldn't be a problem." They went upstairs, got ready for bed, and awkwardly stood around the bed. Cas rubbed the back of his neck as Dean payed with a loose thread on his pajama pants. "We're a real pair of idiots, aren't we?" Dean whispered. Cas chuckled softly and nodded.

"Let's go to bed," he said it so low it was practically a growl. They both got in bed, both stiffly laying on their backs. Dean felt the bed shake and looked over at Cas. He was laughing, but trying to contain it. Even in the dark Dean could see his face turning pink.

"What's so funny?"

"You," he wheezed, "In. Pink. Panties." Cas sputtered the last word, his breath bubbling over into uncontrollable laughter. Dean couldn't help but smile. He turned over on his side and pulled Cas's still quaking body into his, and once the laughter subsided, an easy blanket of sleep covered them and Dean drifted off, dreaming of black satin feathers, blue eyes, and driving cross country in his Impala with Sammy riding shotgun.

* * *

**A/N: I've done it! I've updated! This one was a tough one. I had it all outlined, but everytime I set out to write it, I just couldn't get it together. I struggled reading it, wondering if it's too OOC, too cheesy, too awkward, too long, etc, etc. But here it is! Next chapter will move the plot along, hopefully. I have it in my head all planned out, but it's taking forever. Oh well, that's one of the beauties of fanfiction, the freedom of experimentation with writing!**

**Also, if you're interested, check out my Military!AU Destiel fic entitled _Flyboys_. Dean is a Marine, Sam is in the Navy, and Cas is part of an elite Air Force group of fighter pilots. They all live in an aircraft carrier out to sea!**


	13. Sassy Teachers and a Nervous Principal

"I want to thank all of you for making it to this staff meeting. I know you're all busy, not just with teaching, but your own personal, uh, stuff, so thanks!" Chuck huffed as he gripped the microphone tightly in his hand. "I had a wonderful Christmas, or, uh, excuse me, _winter_ break. I drank, and watched funny car racing, and a little macramé. Uh, yeah." He cleared his throat. Chuck scratched at his neck, then grabbed the water bottle from the stool that stood a foot away from him. He turned sideways and gulped down the water, sneaking a peak at the staff seated in the little theater's seats, then shutting his eyes hard as if they'd all disappear. They didn't, and Chuck was forced to put away the water bottle.

"So, any issues that anyone wants to bring up?" A dozen hands shot in the air. Chuck gripped the microphone in his hand so tight his knuckles began to turn an alarming shade of white. "Mr. Crowley, why don't we start with you."

Castiel looked to where Chuck pointed. A polished man wearing a completely black suit stood up and addressed the entire room. He spoke with an air of a performer, and with a Scottish accent.

"Hello, all. Most of you know I am Fergus Crowley, the Drama teacher here at Samuel Colt High School. I would like to bring everyone's attention to the deplorable state of our Drama department. Our budget has been cut, yet again, to give additional funds to the choir and band departments. In fact, we were not able to put together a play all year because any funds we do have are obligated to the Spring musical, which let's be honest is mostly for the benefit of choir and band, again."

"Well I'll be damned," whispered Rufus who sat behind Dean, Cas, and Sam. "Art complaining about art." He chuckled.

"What are you saying, Crowley?" growled a long haired blonde woman dressed in a white sundress, despite it being winter.

"What I'm saying, _Lilith_, is that it's not fair choir already has four times my budget, and you demand my budget be completely put away for the musical where your students get every role, despite their inability to portray any range of emotion, much less character." Lilith rolled her eyes so far back the back of her head that for a moment Castiel only saw white.

"You're so dramatic," drawled a voice. A thin, tall man with a slight lisp stood up. "Lilith and I get a bigger budget because we bring in more, hmmm prestige and more money for the school. The choir program wins multiple national and regional awards, just like the band under my direction." It was Crowley's turn to roll his eyes.

"Okay, so maybe we should all—" Chuck tried to diffuse the situation, but wasn't paid any attention.

"Could you be more full of yourselves?" Crowley quipped.

"It's called confidence, Crowley. One gains it through achieving success and winning competitions. Tell us again how much money ticket sales bring in for your little plays versus musicals collaborated with choir and band?" the band director spat.

"You know what, Alastair? I have half a mind to tear down our agreement. I think it'd rather make a nice change to have no musical this year, don't you?" Crowley puffed out his chest, and his eyes widened.

"This sounds like it might be more of an inter-departmental issue. So, yeah," Chuck finished weakly. Alastair and Lilith shared a smirk as they took their seats. Unfortunately Crowley witnessed the exchange.

"Hang on! I don't think so. An inter-departmental meeting is absolute nonsense. We put anything to a vote and Drama always loses. Art and Dance are part of their little clique, and they always do whatever Queen Bee over there says."

"This is better than my stories," whispered a sassy voice from somewhere next to Rufus. Dean chuckled next to Castiel.

"Well, you know, I really think—" Chuck tried to interject again.

"No. I've had it, Chuck. I'm pulling Drama out. We are seceding." Castiel exchanged looks with Dean whose eyebrows were raised high on his forehead.

"You're not the South, and this isn't the 1800s," snipped a petite brunet who sat close to Lilith. She had fair skin and her face, were it not contorted in sarcasm, reminded Castiel of the ingénues of the 1920s.

"1860," announced Sam automatically. All heads in the theater turned towards him. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "The South, beginning with Texas, started seceding in 1860," he elaborated. The girl with the face of a silent film movie star gave him a look that plainly told him to take his history facts and shove it. Sam continued to speak. "I just thought we should get our facts straight, you know, being educators." The woman raised her eyebrows and stood up.

"Oh, so knowing exact obscure dates in history measures the quality of a teacher's value? I'm sorry if my art classes aren't as important as your history and economics classes, Bullwinkle. Perhaps I should turn in my tenure because children expressing themselves and the human condition through the arts isn't nearly as important as knowing precisely when Texas seceded from the United States." She shot Sam one last dirty look and took her seat. The other black haired woman that sat beside her threw him one additional look then spoke.

"South Carolina was the first state to secede in 1860. Texas seceded in 1861. Maybe get your facts in order before you start publically correcting other people, okay Fabio?"

"Oh she told you!" chortled the same sassy voice behind them. Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder while trying to contain his laughter.

"Very good, Jolly Green. Thank you for that lesson on how to be humiliated," sassed Crowley with the same look as the woman. Then he turned back to Chuck. "I'm serious. Drama is now independent. And our first act as an independent department is to cancel the Spring musical collaboration." Crowley sat down with his chin jutting forward, head held high. The entire staff looked to Chuck to see how he would handle the situation. After a moment of tense silence, Chuck shook his head.

"Okay," he said with a small shrug of his shoulders.

"What? You can't let him do that! I've already worked out the choreography for _West Side Story_," the second black haired teacher voiced. Chuck just shrugged again.

"Sorry Ruby, but if Fergus wants to separate the theater department from the rest of the Arts department, what can I do?" Ruby rolled her eyes and Crowley smirked at the clique across the house seats. "Does anyone else have anything else they want to discuss in the open period of our meeting?" A handful of staff members and teachers brought up issues. Most of them didn't require the entire staff to be present, but isn't that usually how it goes in these meetings? Someone proposed banning nuts on school property, which was voted down unanimously (yes, even the person that proposed it voted it down). Finally when all hands were called upon, Crowley's raised again. Chuck sighed audibly then nodded at the Drama teacher.

"One last thing. Since the Spring musical has been cancelled due to. . .artistic differences, I would like to get your approval on the new Spring production. I'd like to propose _Romeo and Juliet_." Chuck let out a breath he had been holding.

"Oh. Okay, that's fine. I thought, uh, that you were going to do something wild or controversial." Chuck almost smiled, but Crowley cut in.

"I'd like to do a gay rendition of _Romeo and Juliet_."

"And there it is," sighed Chuck. There were some scattered gasps, and whispering breaking out. Chuck chugged his 'water' again (though Castiel guessed it may have been a different clear liquid as this time he pulled it out of his messenger bag instead of taking the ones on the stool). Castiel wondered if this would be a good way to gauge how Sioux Falls' feelings on homosexuality.

"You're going to need to get unanimous approval from your department for any production choices," started Chuck. "But now that you're an independent department, I guess you have that."

"That's right, oh fearless leader. I only need your sign off now." Chuck finished the rest of his water bottle, closing his eyes as he did so. He took a deep breath and opened them again. "Oh. You're all still here. Uh, I guess it's—"

"Wait," interrupted a deep voice from near the front. A thin, balding man stood up, fiddling with his cardigan buttons as he did so. "I am personally indifferent to sexual preferences, but I must point out that this town may not react well to such a controversial choice in. . . artistic direction." The man sat back down after saying his piece.

"That's true," offered Chuck. "What do you guys think? I mean, I guess we should put it for a vote." Castiel elbowed Dean and pointed to Charlie standing up a few rows away from them.

"Hi! I'm Charlie Bradbury. I teach Computer Science with Ash." Ash, who was sitting next to her, punched the rock hand signal into the air. "I think it would be a fantastic and very liberating choice to go with a gay rendition of _Romeo and Juliet_. I just wanted to say that doing this would be sending a positive message of acceptance to the students. I hope all of you vote with that in mind." Charlie sat down, blushing heavily. Another teacher stood up. She was a small, middle aged woman Castiel recognized to be a Chemistry teacher.

"I don't understand what the big deal is. No one is Sioux Falls will ever have to deal with this gay thing. We're a God fearing community. If the rest of the world wants to turn into Sodom and Gomorrah, then why should we 'accept' that?" The woman sat down and Castiel couldn't help but furrow his brows at her words.

"I thought the Science department was supposed to be full of smart people. That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard," said the first sarcastic brunette from earlier. The Chemistry teacher glared at her, but she smiled sweetly and said, "Hi, I'm Meg. I'm a lesbian." The woman gasped, outrage practically written on her face.

"Okay, everyone. I can see that this is a 'hot button issue', as they say," Chuck choked out.

"Just let ole' Crowley put on his play. No one watches the plays anyways," suggested Rufus. There was a little laughter at that; much of the staff obviously desperate to burst the tension. Charlie stood up again and cleared her throat.

"This is something I've thought about for a while now, but I kept putting it off. I was probably just scared, but it's not about me. This school is wonderful, but it's certainly lacking in educating our students about diversity. I propose a club that will help students with questions about sexuality." Charlie was talking quickly, and her eyes darted from different corners of the room.

"A gay club?" scoffed someone. Sam stood up.

"Hi, me again. I second Charlie. It could be a Gay/Straight Alliance club so it's open to everyone." Meg and Ruby eyed him, but nodded after a moment as if accepting him as not a complete idiot like they thought earlier.

"You should probably get an adult to speak to the students, a gay adult in case anyone has questions about what it's like," said Meg.

"I'm gay," announced Charlie. She bit her lip realizing she had just officially outed herself. Meg looked her over, then appreciatively nodded to herself.

"You are? Interesting," Meg said before winking at Charlie whose mouth hung open.

"So Sam can be accepting role model who happens to be straight," said Charlie, trying to get the attention away from herself. Ruby turned to Sam.

"You are? Interesting," Ruby eyed him once over, then winked. Sam turned to Dean with a look that simply stated _what just happened?_ Dean shrugged with a face that made Castiel want to laugh.

"So, okay. Yeah. Charlie and Sam can start that club. I have some paperwork you two can fill out later. About the Drama club thing, uh, you know why don't we vote on that a little later. We're almost out of time, and I think everyone should take a day to think about. Hot button issue, and all of that. So, uh, yeah." Chuck allowed an awkward air settle inside the theater. Finally he cleared his throat. "Moving on to another topic. I would like all of us to congratulate Mr. Dean Winchester for being awarded Teacher of the Year!"

The room cheered lazily, most willing to forget the earlier tension in favor of applauding Dean's success, but the air still felt thick. He blushed from his seat, raising a hand in acknowledgement.

"And with that wonderful honor he's brought to Samuel Colt High School, he's also brought us $30,000 additional funds for our budget!" Chuck actually beamed at him. He had trouble holding the microphone and clapping his hands together, but his enthusiasm rolled off him in waves. The rest of the staff cheered and applauded with more enthusiasm, catching Chuck's. After all, Dean was a popular man and this was a big honor.

"_Finally! We can fix the Science labs!" _

"_Wait, why does Science get it?"_ The applause died off right away and all eyes were on Chuck who looked like small rabbit that came face to face with huge predator that was all teeth.

"Well, the money hasn't actually been promised to any one department." This was met with immediate revolt. Not Les Mis revolt, but for how Chuck reacted, one would have thought it.

"_But Dean broke the Science lab!"_

"_Band needs new instruments!"_

"_Drama has nothing!"_

"_The air conditioning in the South Hall—"_

"_Dance—"_

"—_Computer—"_

"—_Cafeteria needs—"_

"—_new jerseys!"_

Chuck's knees began to buckle underneath him. There was a lot of yelling over each other.

"I think Chuck might actually pass out," whispered Castiel to Dean. When some of the staff began to stand up and advance closer to the stage, Dean stood up with Castiel and Sam in tow. They walked down the aisle, Sam trying to calm people down as he went. Dean hopped on stage and patted Chuck on the back who relinquished the microphone.

"Hey! This thirty thousand isn't going to be decided by whoever yells the loudest," said Dean in a strong voice over the ruckus. The room didn't quite go silent, but no one was yelling anymore.

"Chuck, just tell us _how _you're going to decide," said Rufus from the audience. Dean turned to the principal, one eyebrow raised. Chuck gulped as Dean handed him back the microphone. Sam and Castiel stood by the edge of the stage, the three of them like some kind of outfit or guard detail.

"Um, well, I guess the only way I can think of deciding where the money goes is to give it back to the teacher that earned it." Chuck turned to Dean who was slightly behind him. "Dean, you decide where the money goes."

It was as if someone opened the doors and all of winter came crashing inside the theater for all the frozen faces.

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter, I know! But I've decided recently to not stress out about my fics. I'm moving forward, and here it is. I have a plan, but I don't mind the "slice of life" detours. I hope you don't, either. **

**Thank you for all the encouragement and support, by the way. **

**I'm sorry this chapter was a little corny. **


	14. Jukebox Confessions

"Shit," Dean whispered. Sammy made a face as if to speak, but then hesitated. The silence lay over the theater until a small noise finally broke the spell. A snorting chuckle broke through, tumbling into a full blown side splitting laugh. Dean looked into the house seats and found the origin of the noise. Missouri Mosely, guidance counselor, was practically sliding off her seat, racked with laughter. Dean's face fell as he saw her wipe a tear from her eye.

"Dean Winchester decide? Oh my Lord, this _is_ better than my stories!" That sassy voice carried in the small theater enough to snap Dean back to reality.

"Chuck, that's crazy!" Dean huffed.

"Why? You're the reason we even have the funds. It's not like you're taking it away from anyone, you're just giving an extra, uh, bonus." Chuck smiled at him weakly. He turned to the rest of the staff. "So next Friday we'll meet again after school. We'll vote on Crowley's play, and Dean will make his decision."

Chuck actually had the nerve to smile at Dean.

* * *

It was awkward. The entire thing was utterly, completely, and absolutely awkward. Dean struggled to even get out of the parking lot. Many of the department heads kept trying to pull him into a conversation about their particular department and why they needed the money. He thought he was safe once he, Jo, Cas, and Sam were all in the Impala, but he was mistaken. He was driving at practically a crawl, teachers and staff members grabbing his baby with their smudgy paws as they tried to talk to him through his window. All he could do was scowl and growl to himself, occasionally honking the horn.

"Look, I just want to go home! Get out of my way!" shouted Dean. "Freaking vultures," he added under his breath. Finally they made it off the parking lot where Dean was able to peel out.

"Dean? Are you okay?" Cas asked from the backseat. Dean shot a look at his rearview mirror where he found blue eyes peering at him. The adrenaline pumping through his chest began to ease.

"I'm fine. I can't believe Chuck would freaking pull that," he growled.

"Me neither. What are you going to do?" Sam asked, brows furrowed. Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"I don't know, man. I'm just an English teacher. What the hell do I know about budgets and spending?"

"Well I guess you have until next Friday to figure it out," added Jo. Dean tightened his jaw, the pressure of it all weighing down on him. "You know what? You're under a crap ton of pressure, Dean. I think we should go out and blow some of it off."

"That sounds like a good idea," Sam seconded. Dean mulled it over. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. Cas smiled at him.

"Perhaps it would help take your mind off things." Dean nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Where to?" Dean asked.

"Let's get out of Sioux Falls. Somewhere nobody knows who we are," answered Jo. Dean got on the freeway, hightailing it out of their city.

They found their way to a dive bar the next town over. It had one pool table, an old jukebox, and was full of strangers trying to wash away the week with pitchers of beer. Dean volunteered to get the first round of drinks while Jo, Sammy, and Cas found a table.

"A pitcher of beer and four glasses," ordered Dean as he pulled out some bills from his wallet. As the bearded bartender walked away to get the pitcher, the smell of something flowery caught Dean's nose. He turned and found himself face to face with a pretty black haired girl, and bright blue eyes in a skin tight red halter top. Dean gave her a quick half smile and turned back to wait for the beer.

"Hey," the woman greeted.

"Hey," Dean replied, turning back to say it as he took the beer and glasses from the bartender and paying for them. Dean made to leave, but the woman placed a hand on his arm.

"My name's Cindy." She caressed his arm and leaned in close.

"Hey Cindy. I'm flattered, but I'm actually taken." She smiled and nodded.

"Figures. But I thought I'd give it a shot." She winked at him and walked away. Dean found the table Jo, Sam, and Cas were sitting and strode over.

"Jesus, Dean. Five minutes inside a bar and you're already getting ogled," Jo teased as Dean handed her a glass of beer.

"You know me," he replied, winking. She rolled her eyes.

"So are we going to have to make room for one more in the Impala? That's going to be an awkward ride home." Dean shook his head.

"No, I told her I was taken." Dean took a gulp of the amber colored lager, feeling refreshed.

"Why did you do that?" asked Sam.

"What?" Dean replied.

"Why did you tell her you were taken?" Sam repeated. Dean shrugged, feeling a blush spread across his face. He took another gulp of his beer hoping to hide it.

"She seems exactly like your type," Jo observed. "Meaning she has boobs and a pulse."

"I'm just here to blow off some steam, not pick up a girl."

"Those things are usually the same thing for you," replied Sam, squinting at his brother. Dean tried to wave it off, not daring to look anywhere near Cas's direction.

"Don't objectify me," he joked.

"It is weird that you'd tell her you were taken. Even if you didn't feel like bringing home a girl, why would you lie?"

"Sammy, stop trying to analyze me and drink your damn beer," growled Dean.

"Touchy," said Jo with a quirked eyebrow. "Did you meet someone in Chicago?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to go pick out a song on the jukebox while you girls find a better subject to talk about." Dean got up and headed for the jukebox across the bar. He leaned against it, browsing through the pages. After browsing a dozen pages of the jukebox selections, he looked up and saw Cas leaning against the wall next to the jukebox, but his face was turned away from Dean. "Hey, Cas."

Dean found his throat tight, wondering why he was feeling suddenly like he was standing in the middle of the bar naked.

"You told her you were 'taken'?" Cas asked as he turned to face Dean. A smile flittered across that beautiful mouth, causing Dean's heart to speed up. He nodded.

"Is that, uh, okay?"

"Is it. . .true?" They locked eyes and the rest of the world could have melted away for all Dean cared.

"I hope so," he whispered, mindlessly tapping the glass on the jukebox with the quarters between his fingers. Cas smiled.

"Are you asking me to go steady, Mr. Winchester?" Dean guffawed. He threw his head back and laughed his entire body shaking.

"Yes, Cas. I am," he wheezed.

"Shouldn't you be handing me your class ring or maybe your letterman jacket?"

"Well I don't have either of those on me, so how about I do something incredibly girly instead and play you a song." Dean slid the quarters in the silver lined slot and keyed in a code. He and Cas stood next to the jukebox, not speaking or even looking at each, just standing near one another as the song began to play.

Dean found the courage to look at Cas's face.

"What is this?"

"Just listen." Those blue eyes looked into his and he felt warmth spread from his face to the tips of his fingers. They listened to the song, the sound of piano and rain mixing together at first, building up like the tension Dean felt inside his chest.

He clenched his fingers, finally settling on balling his hand into a fist. Dean knew he couldn't take Cas and sway with him to the song, their bodies pressed against each other's like he wanted, so instead they stood there, eyes on each other without exchanging words. The song played on and Dean could feel his heart filling up.

Once the song was over they walked back to Sam and Jo who were already staring on the second pitcher. Sammy tried to fill Dean's glass, but he shook his head.

"Somebody needs to drive baby home."

"I can drive," Cas volunteered. "Go ahead." Dean handed over his keys and let Sam pour him another glass. He saw Jo give him a strange look.

"What?" Jo just pursed her lips then took another drink from her glass. The rest of the night passed by in easy conversation.

* * *

They piled into the Impala after last call, Dean riding shotgun and singing along to Boston. Sam and Jo sang harmony until Sam and Dean passed out. They were still a few exits away from home when the tape ended. Jo cleared her throat.

"I thought you were asleep," mused Castiel.

"I can hold my liquor unlike these two," she answered. After a moment of silence, she spoke up again. "So, are you and Dean screwing?" Castiel swerved the Impala. Jo let out an amused snort while the two brothers continued to snore. "I will take that as a yes."

"Jo, that's an absurd thought."

"Yeah it is, but it's still true." She smiled at him, all teeth and raised eyebrows. Castiel tried to deny it again, and Jo rolled her eyes in response. "I won' tell anyone, Cas. Sheesh."

They finally pulled into the driveway, Castiel having been silent the rest of the drive. They woke up Dean and Sam, and all four of them went into the house. Dean fell over at the couch while Sam, Jo, and Cas went upstairs. After the house went back to being still, Castiel heard a soft knock on his bedroom door. He didn't bother putting on a shirt, wearing only pajama bottoms, thinking Dean would be on the other side.

"Jo," Cas whispered. He grabbed a tee shirt hanging on the bed post and scrambled to get it on. "Is everything okay?"

"Nice shirt," she observed. Castiel looked down and found he was wearing Dean's Kansas City Chiefs tee shirt.

"Thank you," he replied.

"Dean has one just like it."

"Did you need something, Jo?"

"I'm all about the truth." Castiel nodded. Time ticked by, but she stayed immobile, frozen in that spot just outside Castiel's door.

"I don't understand what you're looking for," Castiel said slowly.

"Look, it's none of my business. I know that. But Dean is family to me, and I like you, Cas. It's just that Dean has always been into women. He's a flirt, and he's open minded, but at the very core of who he is, Dean is about family. I just don't see him ending up with someone who couldn't give that to him. And the way you were looking at him tonight?" She shook her head and Castiel thought he could see the pity in her eyes.

"I apologize that my lack of ovaries is offending you. I'll be sure to take your uneducated opinions into consideration in regards to my life and how I live it." Without giving the taken aback girl time to recover, Castiel shut the door. He waited until he heard soft footsteps carry away from his door.

Castiel spent the rest of the night trying to fall asleep, but failing miserably.

* * *

**A/N: Last chapter broke 100 reviews! Wow! Thank you! **

**So the song that plays on the jukebox is "Love Reign O'er Me" by The Who. You should check it out (on youtube or something, but make sure it's The Who version!). **

**Next chapter will be all about the days leading up to their follow up Staff Meeting where they vote on Crowley's artistic direction, and Dean decides where the funds go. I'm thinking about getting experimental with that chapter. The last time I experimented was chapter 10, which I felt was a successful experiment. **

**Thank you for all the encouragement, be it reviews, PMs, or putting my fic on your alert or favorites list! **


	15. Too Pure to be Pink

**Saturday.**

Sam Winchester woke up with a hammering headache. He blinked himself awake, the light of the mid-morning sun too bright for his sensitive eyes. He groaned, pulling a nearby throw pillow to cover his face. He wanted to shrink away, be scattered among the stars—anything to dull the pounding of his brain and the brightness against his eyes. Sam's other senses came to life, one by one like falling dominoes, refusing to allow him to disappear underneath the pillow.

First came touch. His skin absorbed the rough, scratchy material of his jeans against his legs and thighs. He felt the cold metal button sitting against his lower abdomen. The cotton of his socks felt suffocating, keeping in too much heat causing his toes to feel as if they were being individually strangled. Sam's arm began to tingle underneath his weight, the angle wrong. He shifted and felt the cling of leather on his sticky skin.

Sound came quickly after. Sam could hear the muffled conversation from the kitchen, the shuffling of feet on hardwood, and the clanging of pans, plates, and silverware. Even the sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing was magnified to a lewd degree.

Smell came next. Sam took a breath and was hit hard with the strong smell of fabricated spring from the cushion he held over his face. Dean had recently gotten obsessed with spraying every piece of cloth in the house with Febreeze to the point where Sam was forced to hide the bottles in odd places in the house (there was one bottle taped on the side of the propane tank, another two or three in the basement taped to the water heater, and about four bottles in Sam's hamper in his room, and maybe a bottle in the dark corner of the pantry). The smell of toast, bacon, and eggs permeated the air, attacking his nose through the smell of bottled meadows and mountain air.

Sam yawned, tasting the morning and stale beer on his dry tongue. He smacked his lips together hoping that action would allow him to swallow the previous night. Unfortunately the taste wouldn't leave. Sam sighed, giving in and finally decided to face the new day.

He heaved his body towards the kitchen once his sight and head were better acclimated, his feet dragging as if he was moving forward by the sheer force of his will.

"Sammy! How are you feeling?" Dean's voice carried like a punch to Sam's head.

"Why are you so loud?" He ignored his brother's chuckle.

"I can't believe you're hungover, man. Here, this will help." Dean placed a plate in front of Sam; scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, and toast. "Orange juice okay?" Sam nodded. Dean handed him the glass and placed two tablets next to his plate.

"Thanks. Hey, Jo. Dean already fed and watered you?" She nodded. Sam saw her face lined with something, was it worry? "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she answered. She pushed herself off the counter she was leaning on and headed out of the kitchen. "I'm taking a shower. If anyone needs the bathroom, too damn bad."

Sam looked to Dean who shrugged his shoulders.

"She's been quiet all morning."

"Must be all that dad stuff." Sam speared some egg and shoveled it into his mouth. "I'm surprised Ellen hasn't broken down our door yet."

"Ellen called me this morning," Dean replied as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "Wanted to know how Jo's doing."

"They'll get through this, right?" Sam popped the Advil and chased it with the tangy orange juice.

"Yeah, of course, Sammy! They just need some time apart." Dean gave him a smile that Sam knew wouldn't quite reach his eyes which is probably why he turned away, pretending to be grabbing his orange juice.

"Where's Cas?"

"Running," Dean answered. Sam thought he saw him clench his jaw.

"Without you?"

"He said he wanted to go alone today." Dean got up and placed his still full glass into the sink. Sam felt like the air was suddenly colder. He wasn't sure what to say and Dean continued to pretend to be doing something with his back turned, so Sam just started shoveling more egg into his mouth. After another gulp of orange juice and bite of toast, Sam cleared his throat.

"I'm sure he's just clearing his head or something." Dean turned back around and leaned against the counter. He scratched his stubbly jaw. Sam tried to offer a smile to his big brother, but Dean was staring off into space. The phone rang, snapping both of them back to reality. Dean grabbed the receiver and answered it without looking at the caller id. "Cas? . . . Oh, sorry Jody. Yeah, what's going on? . . . Oh, okay. No, he's not home. Yeah, I'll let him know. Thanks, Jody. I'll see you later." Dean hung up. Sam gave his brother a questioning look.

"What's up?"

"Jody just wants to file some more paperwork or something with Cas."

"Oh. Okay." Sam finished up his breakfast while Dean fiddled with his phone. When Sam filled up the dishwasher, he saw Dean was staring at his phone like he was plotting its murder. "You know it's just a phone, right? It didn't actually do anything to you."

"What?"

"You look like you're ready to stab your phone with a bowie knife, Dean. You have the same look as my juniors when they're trying to figure out how to ask a girl to junior prom. Is that what you're doing?" Before Dean could reply, the sound of the front door opening cut him off. Dean walked to the living room, and Sam followed, wiping his freshly washed hands on his jeans.

"Hey, Cas! How was your run?" Sam asked.

"It was adequate," Cas replied.

"Uh, so Jody called. Said for you to come into the station today. Let me know when you want to go," said Dean.

"I will take my car. I have a few things to do today, anyway."

"I don't mind driving," Dean started, but Cas cut him off.

"Thank you, Dean. I'll be fine." Cas went upstairs leaving Sam with Dean who looked as if Cas had just kicked his puppy.

Sam spent the rest of Saturday making arrangements for Dean's birthday party. He told Dean he was going over some more of Bobby's books for the Salvage Yard, and Dean was so distracted he even bought it. Every year since they moved into Sioux Falls, Dean had thrown Sam huge parties for his birthday, and every time Sam tried to do the same for his older brother, he'd get found out. It was as if Dean was some sort of detective in a different life. This year was going to be different.

When dinner time rolled around, Sam found himself alone in the dining room. The living room was abandoned, so he climbed the stairs two at a time and yelled into the hallway.

"Dinner, guys!" Sam waited, but was met with no response. He walked over to Dean's room and knocked. Jo opened the door with tight lips and hard eyes. "Hey, Jo. Dinner?"

"I'm okay, Sam. Thanks." She closed the door on him before he could reply. He trudged over to the next door and knocked.

"Hello, Sam." Cas opened the doors wide his entire room was on display for Sam. Dean sat on the chair next to the desk with one ankle balancing on his other thigh and hands on his head almost too casually. He wore an easy smile he usually reserved for Chuck when he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be.

"Uh, hey guys. Dinner is ready."

"Thanks, Sammy. Cas and I were just working out a project for our classes we were going to do together with both classes." Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, that's great, Dean. Let's eat. I'm starving."

"Yeah, give us a minute," replied Dean. This time he smiled and Sam let out an internal sigh of relief that whatever Dean and Cas were fighting about was worked out. He left the room, only momentarily finding it curious that they would shut the door.

**Sunday. **

Sam woke up on Sunday morning to an empty house. He texted Dean, who replied with _**'At the batting cages with Cas'**_which he found odd considering it was still snowing and he thought the Cages were closed, but maybe it was snowing lightly enough for them to reopen. He shrugged it off. When he texted Jo, she replied _'__**At the library, mom.'**_ Sam scowled at himself wondering when everyone got so moody this weekend.

He took advantage of the fact that he had privacy and Skyped with Jess, taking his time to have prolonged video sex for once. He didn't even have to keep it down.

"Wow, Sam. That was great," Jess panted, flipping over on her stomach, still naked and not bothering to cover herself up.

"I know, babe. Dean hasn't left the house in months. He's been following Cas around like a lost puppy." Sam wiped his stomach with his tee shirt, tossing it over to his laundry basket.

"How is Castiel? Is he still binge drinking every night?"

"No. He's a lot better now. I think him moving in was a really good idea."

"For Cas or Dean?"

"Both? I don't know. It's weird; they're like two peas in a pod. They just fit together."

"Are you jealous? Because Sam, you know you're Dean's soul-mate." She winked at him.

"Ha ha, Jess. I just mean I'm really happy that they found each other. Almost everyone that meets Dean connects with him, but this is different. It's like they connect on some, I don't know, profound way." Jess scrunched up her nose and had a far-away look in her eyes.

"Hey, Sam? Has Castiel dated anyone yet?" Sam shook his head.

"No. Lisa made a play for him, you remember. But it didn't go anywhere. Jo was interested, but I don't think anything happened there, either."

"Huh. I wonder why?"

"Well, Jess, he's been pretty busy the being stalked, and being a full time teacher, and watching every movie in mine and Dean's collection." Sam smiled at her and she returned it. They hung up a half hour after that, and Sam spent the rest of the day working on his lesson plans. When he finished that, he cooked dinner (a new Cobb salad, and fruit stew recipes he found online). Just as he finished setting the table, Jo walked in.

"Hi, Jo. How was the library?"

"It was fine. Hey, so I'm just here to get my stuff."

"You and Ellen worked things out?"

"No. I just think it's time for me to leave. Ash said I could crash at his place for a while," replied Jo.

"What? You know you're welcome here, Jo. You can stay until you find—" Jo waved him of with her hand.

"I know, Sam. I really appreciate everything you and Dean have done for me. I just think it's crowded here, don't you?" Sam's mind began to turn.

"What's up? Do you not like Cas living here?" Even as the words left Sam's mouth they felt gritty. "Do you not like Cas?"

"It isn't like that. It's just—look, it's complicated, okay? It's the best thing right now, me leaving." She gave him a weak half-smile then climbed the stairs. Sam ate dinner alone that night and fell asleep watching reruns of _X-Files. _It was a little before midnight when Cas and Dean came home. Dean's and Cas's clothes were crumpled, their hair disheveled, Dean's shirt was on inside out, and Cas was sporting multiple hickeys on and above his collar bone. Sam was dead asleep and didn't see a thing.

**Monday.**

Sam woke up late. So late in fact, that both Dean and Cas were already showered and eating breakfast when he was still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Dean winked at him, a crooked smile on his face as Sam thundered up and down the stairs, throwing on anything just to get dressed on time. He hated not showering, but knew he was already pushing his time limit this morning.

"Why didn't you wake me up, jerk?" Sam asked in the car. Cas handed him a bagel from the backseat as Dean pulled out of their driveway.

"You looked so peaceful."

"We did try to shake you and you took a swing at me," Cas informed Sam.

"Oh. Sorry, Cas."

"Apology accepted." Kansas played on the radio as the three of them drove to school. After a song and a half, Dean cleared his throat.

"Hey, so what happened with Jo? I just got a text saying she was moving in with Ash?" Dean threw a glance at him.

"I don't know, man. She just. . .left."

"What the hell has been going on with her?"

"Well, this dad thing must be hitting her pretty hard. I mean, can you imagine if we were in her shoes?"

"What? You mean finding out Dad's still alive out there?" Sam didn't respond. The two brothers sat, letting the radio fill the car. Finally Dean spoke in a small, quiet voice.

"Sometimes, I think about what it would be like if we found Dad." Sam nodded.

"I know, Dean."

"It's possible, right? People show up years after they disappear."

"Dean."

"I'm just saying, Sammy." Sam sighed.

"I know, Dean." They pulled into their parking spot, not one of them speaking during the trek to their respective classrooms.

Sam got to the table for lunch first as usual. Jo, Ash, and Lisa joined him like normal, but when Dean and Cas didn't showed up, Sam decided to text his brother.

_Dude, where are you guys?_

_**In my classroom, man. Come over. There's PIE.**_

Sam got up and shoved his half eaten sandwich, apple, and homemade protein shake back inside his lunch bag.

"Dean says there's pie in his classroom. You guys want to come?"

"I can't. Tell him and Cas I'll catch them later. I've got to go see Chuck in five minutes. Shoot, or maybe I was supposed to be there already with Charlie," replied Ash.

"I have to go talk to Ben's seventh period teacher," Lisa added. Jo simply shook her head.

"Okay, guys. See you later." Sam made his way to Dean's classroom. He nodded to the staff and students he passed, but made sure not to make too much eye contact. Even though it was common knowledge he was engaged to Jess, much of the staff and students still flirted and gave him doe eyed looks. Lucky for Sam, Dean was more than happy and available to take most of the attention away from him.

Sam furrowed his brows in thought as he rounded the hallway corner towards Dean's classroom. It had been months since Dean went out or picked up a girl. He wondered if this dry spell was a symptom of something deeper. He'd have to watch out for that. Sam thought about the way Dean struggled five years ago when their dad disappeared, and he just didn't think he could handle seeing Dean like that again.

"Sammy!" Dean greeted as he walked into the classroom. Sam's face fell into a mixture of confusion, surprise, and amusement. There were half a dozen pies adorning Dean's desk, and another couple of empty pie tins in his trash.

"You have filling all over your face, man," Sam informed him as he scooped up a nearby tin and dug in. "Blueberry. This is pretty good."

"Dude! That's mine!"

"Dean, you have like eight pies."

"Ten, actually. And a small cake," added Castiel.

"Cake?"

"From the science department," explained Dean. "Rookies."

"What is all this for?" Sam asked.

"Apparently everyone seems to think Dean can be bought with baked goods," Cas elaborated through a mouthful of rhubarb.

"Wait, you've really gotten all these as bribes?" Dean nodded as apple filling dripped from his mouth. Sam laughed.

"The baseball team gave him a varsity jacket," Cas volunteered. Dean pulled it off the back of his chair and tossed it over to Sam.

"It even says Winchester on the back." Dean smirked.

"You've got pie all over your face," Sam told Dean again. "So who are you leaning towards?"

"Apple pie's good. It's from the History Department, can you believe it?"

"The rhubarb is quite delectable," added Cas. "It's from the librarians." Dean forked a hefty piece from the tin in Cas's hands. He nodded his agreement.

"Maybe the library could finally afford to buy books published after the 50s," Sam sputtered through a mouthful of peach pie.

"Is that my peach?" Dean attacked Sam, fork first. They spent the rest of the lunch period eating too much pie, laughing at each other, and discussing what each department would do with the money if they received it. Dean swore up and down the Science department was building an evil genius lab underneath the school, while Sam deduced many of the Art teachers may just use it to buy large, industrial sized kilns in order to create large, industrial sized bongs. Castiel snorted at that, while Dean looked as if he was truly considering it as a point in favor towards the Art department. The warning bell rang and Sam left Cas and Dean who were still laughing at something, as the button on Sam's slacks dug into his full belly.

That night passed like the happy nights from before Jo moved in. Guilt poked at Sam for thinking that way. It wasn't as if Jo wasn't welcome, it just felt a little as if she intruded. Sam chewed on that as Dean picked another movie for the night. When was Jo, a surrogate sister to him and Dean, an intruder to their life with Cas? When did Cas trump Jo?

"Hey, Sam. You're going to give yourself an aneurysm if you think that hard," Dean commented as he popped in _Judge Dredd_. "Cas, this is a Stallone classic. You're gonna love it."

"I don't think Cas is going to like this one as much as he did _Rocky_. Oh, and it's literally impossible to have an aneurysm for 'thinking hard', Dean."

"What's weighing heavy on your mind?" Cas asked, turning towards Sam on the couch.

"Nothing. Just in my own head."

"Well, I would love to hear all about it. Perhaps I could be of service? Being troubled seems almost an integral part of your personality, so I chose to ignore it the last few days, but you seem particularly troubled tonight."

"Wait, what?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows as Dean guffawed in his armchair.

"He nailed you right on the head," Dean chocked out.

"Shut up, jerk." Dean was too tied up wiping a small tear from his eye to respond. Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks Cas. I'm afraid Dean would become the green eyed jealousy monster he is if you and I spend time together without him."

Sam was only teasing of course, but for whatever reason Dean choked on his laugh while Castiel looked away.

"Shut up, Sammy. I don't get jealous."

"He hates sharing. But okay, it has kind of been bugging me all day. Jo's been weird the last few days. She's been moody all weekend, and today she didn't even want to come with me to Dean's classroom."

"Maybe she's on her period," mused Dean.

"Dean, we don't say things like that," Sam voiced. Dean gave him that look he always did when he didn't understand what was wrong with what he said.

"Well, why the hell has she been acting like such a bitch all weekend? I didn't do anything to her, did you?"

"No, of course not!" Sam shouted. "You probably said something insensitive and didn't even know it."

"I never do that!" Dean huffed. Sam's eyebrows skyrocketed.

"Cas, you know what I'm talking about, don't you?" The brothers turned to Castiel. Sam was taken aback at the expression he found painted on there. The blue eyed teacher shook his head and the expression fell from his face, replaced with a neutral one.

"I don't believe I know Dean well enough to form a well thought out opinion." Neither Sam nor Dean replied, and Castiel simply allowed himself to sink into the couch. The movie began to play and Sam's mind wandered around one central thought:

_What the hell is going on with everyone?_

**Tuesday.**

Sam was groggy all morning. He couldn't remember if he washed his hair or not, so Sam ended up shampooing his hair twice. He also missed a spot on his left jaw when he was shaving. And maybe he left the house with his sweater inside out.

"What is going on with you, Winchester?" Ash asked during Sam's free period. Sam had been playing 'catch up' all day, even going as far as running into the computer lab and begging Charlie and Ash to help him with one of his classes since they taught a couple of dual classes.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep."

"What's up? Fighting with Jess?"

"No, we're great. I don't even know what happened. Dean and Cas were yelling at each other, and when I tried to break it up, they kept pretending they weren't fighting." Ash raised one eyebrow as he leaned against the blackboard with his bare, farmer tanned arms crossed.

"Do you think it has to do with Cas's stalker?" Sam dropped his pencil.

"What?" Ash shrugged him off.

"I have a direct feed to all case reports filed from the sheriff's office."

"You hacked into the sheriff's office! That's incredibly illegal, Ash!"

"I did it like fifteen years ago. I just never took it off." Sam smiled.

"Sherriff Mills would kill you if she knew."

"Then I guess no one should tell her." Sam laughed.

"So you know about the stalker?" Ash nodded. "Maybe it is about that. I think so. I kind of wish they'd let me in on it."

"Well Cas seems like a private dude. Maybe he only feels comfortable talking to Dean. They're pretty close." San nodded. After a moment of silence, Ash spoke again. "Hey, if we're done being all sad and thoughtful, can we please discuss the epicness that will be known as your brother's birthday party?"

Sam smiled, revealing bright white, and even teeth.

"Yes! I've got a crap load of ideas—" Ash pulled his hand and held it up it one surprisingly fluid movement.

"Charlie and Jo would kill us if we start discussing plans without them." Sam nodded. Ash rarely spoke without the weight of truth behind him.

The lunch bell rang and Sam rushed to the cafeteria, his stomach grumbling at him for forgetting breakfast. Unfortunately for him, Becky Rosen, the senior class President, was waiting for him outside his classroom. It took Sam ten minutes to excuse himself from her and skirting around the issue of prom. He practically ran to the lunch table once he finally broke away. A sight caught his eye, forcing him to freeze in his tracks.

"Cas?" Sam asked as he stood in the middle of the lunch room. He looked from Cas and their normal lunch group, three tables away. "Why are you sitting here?"

"What is this, _Romeo and Juliet_? We're not the Montagues, you know. He _can _sit with other people." snapped Ruby. Sam swallowed her words. To her left, next to Cas sat Meg who was shooting him death glares.

"I thought I'd like to get to know more of the staff," shrugged Cas.

"Oh." Cas stuck out with his sapphire colored sweater over his crisply white oxford against all the black leather jackets and black knitted scarves of the Arts teachers. Ruby, Meg, and Lilith pursed their lips.

"What?" challenged Ruby.

"Nothing!" Sam flustered. Ruby and Meg exchanged looks while Lilith continued to stare at him, taking the straw for her carton of milk between her hot pink lips.

"You think we're going to be a bad influence on Clarence here, or something?" Meg asked with a ready tongue. She cocked one eyebrow as brightness reflected in her dark eyes. "You think he's too pure to be pink?"

Lilith and Ruby smiled at her joke. Sam may have felt his own lips twitch.

"I don't understand that reference," Castiel uttered, looking from the women to Sam. This broke the wall as all four, Sam, Ruby, Meg, and Lilith, laughed.

"Are you going to stare at us from over there all lunch? It's kind of creepy," Ruby claimed. "Take a seat with us or with the Scooby gang over there staring at you. Either way your Washington monument sized shadow is scaring the sophomores behind you and this is supposed to be a safe environment for children."

"Okay," Sam acquiesced. He took a seat between Lilith and Ruby at the small, round table. He waved at the other table where Ash, Jo, Charlie, and Lisa sat with varying degrees of confusion on their faces. He looked to Cas to see if he minded.

"I'm pleased to have you join us," Cas informed him.

"Thanks. So what are you guys talking about?" Sam pulled out his sandwich and took a bite. He was pleasantly surprised to find ham, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. He also found an apple and carrot sticks inside his lunch bag.

"Guys?" Meg rolled her eyes. Sam tried to apologize, but his mouth was too full. "It's okay to chew your food. I promise we won't think any less of you if you do."

Sam would have thought he would have been bothered by all the sarcasm dripping off the lunch table, but instead he found himself weirdly comfortable with it.

"We were just discussing the parallels between _Romeo and Juliet _and _West Side Story_. We're thinking about putting on the musical without all the drama the Drama department brings," volunteered Ruby. She took the apple from his lunch bag and took a bite.

"That's my apple." She looked up at him with disdain in every inch of her face. She chewed the bite she already took then handed him back his apple. "Thanks."

"We like to share at this table, Mr. Winchester," purred Lilith. Something about the way she said that, maybe the tone, the enticing raised eyebrow, the sultry smirk, or the flirty eye contact, but Sam felt his face suddenly grow hot. He cleared his throat and looked down at his food.

"Oh calm down, Don Juan. We know you're halfway to your white picket fence life. Some Martha Stewart co-ed edition in California, right?" Meg interjected. Sam smiled.

"Her name is Jess," he informed them.

"Aww!" chorused Lilith, Meg, and Ruby with easy sarcasm. Cas chuckled.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked.

"I believe he had to speak to Chuck," Cas answered.

"A hundred says he gives that money to Turner," Meg voiced, grabbing Sam's apple and taking a bite. Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Ruby cut him off.

"I'll take that. I say Ken doll gets done in by the guilt by the Science nerds for that fire a couple of years back. What about you, Blue Eyes? Who do you think your boyfriend will give all that money to?" Sam smirked at the tease.

"I don't know. I know he's had many requests as well as many gifts to entice him to choose—"

"Wait. He's been getting bribes?" Ruby asked. All three women zeroed in on Cas.

"Yes. He's received well over a dozen baked—"

"Son of a bitch," breathed out Meg. "And _we're_ supposed to be the ones with questionable morals."

"Well, if it makes a difference," Cas began, "Dean could never be swayed by such indecent actions. He will decide the best course, and it will be a justifiable cause."

"Well, I guess you certainly have yourself a righteous man there, now don't you?" Lilith commented with that trademark coy smile playing on her lips. She grabbed the half eaten apple from Meg and bit into it, locking eyes with Sam as she did so.

The rest of Sam's day passed normally. He felt much better after having eaten lunch and seeing that Cas and Dean had apparently made up again. At least he assumed this was the case judging by how well Cas spoke of Dean during lunch. Unfortunately 'assuming' makes an ass out of Sam. When he reached the Impala at the parking lot, Dean and Cas were already in the car. Sam could tell there was something off because both men were staring hard at nothing out of their windows, opposite each other. He slid carefully into the passenger seat and Dean practically peeled out of the spot, no one speaking. The entire drive home was like this, with Sam not trying to force conversation on them, feeling the tension too thick to talk through. Dean threw the car into park and jumped out once they pulled into the driveway. He slammed his door close, and Sam and Cas followed him into the house, still silent. Finally, Sam could no longer take it.

"What's going on, guys?" The two men still refused to look at each other. Dean took a deep breath and looked at Sam.

"Cas is moving back to his house."

"Oh." Sam felt as if his brother's words had punched him in the gut.

"I feel it's time I go home. I've already taken so much from you."

"Cas, we love having you here," Sam explained. "It feels like you belong here with us."

"Thank you, Sam. You've made me feel like part of your family. I thank you both." And with that he left the room, presumably to go upstairs and pack.

"What did you do?" Sam rounded on his brother.

"I don't know," confessed Dean, looking down at his feet. "He won't talk to me."

"You're his best friend, Dean. You've been inseparable since you met the guy." Dean simply shrugged.

"I'm getting real tired of all this mysterious, dark past crap," he whispered as he made his way into the kitchen. Sam followed. Dean pulled the refrigerator open and grabbed a beer for him and Sam. "All I know is he was perfectly okay on Friday, then the weekend hit and he's been acting like I'm—like being here is some God awful punishment or something."

"Yeah, you're right. You don't think something happened between him and Jo, do you?" Sam took a swig of his beer. Dean looked at him with misdirected anger clear on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Jo was fine at the bar on Friday. But come Saturday and she suddenly she wants nothing to do with us. You think our house is haunted or something?" Dean took a long drink from his bottle.

"I don't freakin' know, but I'm going to find out." Dean put down his half empty beer and left. Sam heard the Impala roar to life and drive away in the direction of Ash's house.

Dean ended up coming home after midnight, well after Cas had taken his things and drove off in his BMW. Sam thought it best to wait up for him, but of course he had misread the situation. His emotionally constipated brother simply walked past him, up the stairs, slammed his bedroom door, and went to bed.

**Wednesday.**

Wednesday morning was alien to Sam. He hadn't realized just how much Cas had affected his and Dean's morning routine. They both ended up in the kitchen standing next to the counter when Cas would normally have their breakfast waiting for them. Of course this morning there was no oatmeal with cut up fruit, or runny eggs with bacon or sausage, or even boxes of cereal splayed out with fresh squeezed orange juice or lemonade next to the empty bowls.

"We could hit a drive thru on the way," suggested Sam. Dean nodded. Without the additional body, the carousel known as the bathroom schedule flowed quicker leaving them with an extra fifteen minutes. Unfortunately neither brother remembered to pack lunch.

Riding in the Impala with Dean was painful. From the angry silence from Dean, to the sappy sad mullet break up songs that blared through the stereo, Sam wondered how to best broach the subject. The last time he had seen him like this was when he and Cassie broke up the first time three or four years ago.

"Dean, why are you so upset?" Sam asked while Dean was expertly switching tapes one handed.

"Because I wanted an egg Mcmuffin, not a sausage Mcmuffin. And I ordered an extra hash brown they forgot to put in the bag," replied Dean.

"I'm not talking about that. Here, you can have my hash brown. Look, if Cas wants to move back to his house, that's up to him. It's not like you're never going to see him again. You guys were practically attached at the hip before he moved in." Dean shrugged and turned up the volume as Boston came on.

"I'm not upset about Cas," Dean spat just as they entered the hallway to Dean's class. Sam nodded. "I just have other stuff going on."

"What other stuff, Dean?"

"Other stuff okay? You don't know everything about me, Sammy."

"Okay," Sam mocked as he continued to his own classroom.

"Don't say okay like _okay_," Dean yelled after him.

"Okay." Sam thought he could actually hear Dean roll his eyes.

Sam spent the entirety of his morning classes on the internet researching ideas for Dean's birthday party. With so much on his plate, Sam felt the pressure to make sure Dean had an unforgettable birthday. It was serendipitous that today happened to be the day where all of his classes had period long tests. He liked to give one of those every month, a full review of the past month's lesson in order to cement the information as well as prepare his kids for the barrage of standardized tests like the ACTs, the SATs, or the PSATs they'll be taking in a few months. They hated him for it, at least for the first couple of months, but as long as they paid attention in class, everyone could and did ace his tests. In fact, he encouraged them not to study the night before, but simply look over their past homework for a few minutes every day. He was trying to instill in his students ways to learn the material, not just memorize random answers.

That's what he told Jess when he first started teaching, and she really liked that answer, and so the monthly tests stuck.

When lunch came, Sam walked to the cafeteria still forgetting he had no lunch with him today. He made his was to his regular lunch table where Charlie and Ash were already sitting. They waved when they saw him and he smiled back.

"Sam!" He turned and found Castiel walking towards him, a brown paper bag in his hand. "Did you make lunch?"

"Uh, no. Dean and I completely forgot about it." Cas handed him the bag. "You made me lunch? Thanks, man."

"I had a strong feeling you would have forgotten. I made one for Dean as well."

"Where is he? You guys didn't walk here together?" Sam looked around looking for Dean.

"No. I went to his classroom, but there were half a dozen teachers talking to him. I'm going to sit with Meg and her friends again today. Would you give it to him if he shows up?" Cas handed him a second identical bag.

"Sure," he replied, taking the second lunch.

"Ruby said you're welcome to join us." Sam looked over to the table where Ruby, Meg, and Lilith were watching them. Sam smiled as he took in the fact they all wore matching pink jackets with their names embroidered on the back.

"You know what, Cas? That would be really fun, actually." Cas beamed at him.

"I see you're making a habit of joining us for lunch, Mr. Winchester," Lilith purred when Sam sat down.

"Well, I'm just hoping I can score a sweet Pink Ladies jacket," replied Sam.

"I don't think pink is in your wheelhouse, sweetheart," Meg quipped. Sam snorted and he felt some milk squirt out of his nose. The table laughed and Cas handed him a napkin. He wasn't sure why, but he felt at ease here just as much as he did with Ash, Charlie, Jo, and Lisa. In fact, if Sam were being perfectly honest, he might have felt more at ease with 'the Pink Ladies'.

"I haven't done that in years," Sam commented, a laugh still on the tip of his tongue.

"Well, what can I say? I'm hilarious," Meg stated as she opened Sam's lunch and pulled out his mini Tupperware container. She popped it open and revealed cut up cantaloupe.

"Is it fresh?" Ruby asked. Meg handed the container to her and she stabbed a cube with her plastic fork. Sam considered speaking up, but decided to shrug it off instead and take a French fry from Ruby's plate who didn't even so much as bat an eyelash.

"So what's the deal? Why do you still live with your brother?" Meg asked Sam.

"Are you actually not brothers, but gay lovers afraid of the social stigma?" Ruby asked.

"What? No!" Sam defended, following his cantaloupe as it made its way to Lilith.

"Then why do you still live together? Shouldn't you be in California with Ivy League Barbie?"

"I couldn't picture Sam and Dean living that far away from each other," Cas mused out loud.

"Well, you certainly know them better than we do," forfeited Ruby.

"I think there is an unhealthy codependency between you and big brother," Lilith inputted. Sam scrunched up his face.

"We're not codependent on each other."

"Don't you drive to school together?"

"Yeah, but we're literally going to the same place at the same time."

"Okay, I'll accept that. You do own your own car, though?" Sam took a bite of his sandwich instead of answering, earning him a proud smirk from Lilith. "You have a degree in law, is that right?"

Sam nodded, suddenly on guard towards her questions.

"And you went all the way to Stanford to study law to become a History teacher in Sioux Falls?"

"That's enough," proclaimed Cas in a firm voice. Lilith locked eyes with him before smirking again.

"I like it when you get rough." She went back to eating Sam's cantaloupe.

"Looks like you've got a guardian angel," Ruby whispered to Sam. He chuckled.

"One time Dean picked a fight the entire football team when we were in high school because one of them tripped me on the way to class."

"Well look at you. You've got a small security detail following you, Sam." He shrugged. She added, "All I know is your brother throws you one hell of a birthday party every year, and I get hammered and not one soul in Sioux Falls can judge me since they're all hammered, too."

Sam smiled. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Dean literally got every single staff member at Colt to attend his birthday every year.

"I'm actually trying to come up with something for him. His birthday is in just over a couple of weeks."

"You're trying to throw a party?" Meg cut in. Castiel and Lilith looked towards him as well, stopping their conversation on Stephen Sondheim.

"Looks like you've just unleashed hell, Sam," Ruby told him as she ate the last piece of cantaloupe Sam didn't get to try.

"Yeah. Dean's always throwing me huge parties I figured I could do something for him this year that would really blow his mind."

"Well, looks like you've come to the right place. I happen to be an expert at going overboard when planning events. What do you say you let us help you?" He could hear the excitement in Meg's voice.

Sam pondered for a moment. A scary glint in her eye appeared, warning Sam she meant exactly what she said.

"Yeah. Let's do it."

"You're going to regret this," Meg promised.

"Don't you mean I'm _not _going to regret this?"

"Oh, you'll regret it. In the best way possible," elaborated Lilith.

"Cas? You're helping too, right?" Sam asked, pleading with him through his eyes.

"Yes, of course. Anything you need me to do for Dean." That alleviated some of the pressure in Sam's chest. He wouldn't let Sam and the Pink Ladies get into too much trouble after all. They spent the rest of lunch brainstorming ideas, and true to her word, Meg was already pushing elaborate ideas and plans.

Dean didn't end up making lunch again that day. Sam gave the lunch back to Cas who told him he would simply drop it off Dean's classroom before the next period started.

"So, you guys are good, then?" Sam asked as they headed out of the cafeteria.

"Of course," Castiel answered, not making eye contact with him.

"Hey, I'm sorry about how needy Dean is being. He's just got a lot on his plate right now, and I think that he feels if he's not there to protect you, he's failing somehow. He's always been protective, maybe overly so. If he gets to be too much, let me know. I'll talk to him."

"Dean warned me about your 'puppy dog' look, and now I see what he meant. It is quite effective," Castiel said. Sam laughed and they parted ways in the throng of students in the hallway.

Dean was still in a sour mood after school. They pulled out of the parking lot leaving Cas's shiny BMW in the space next to theirs. Dean dropped Sam off at home, telling him he was going to blow off steam at the gym. Sam fully supported that choice, hoping the stick up his brother's ass would fall off if he ran enough on the treadmill.

Sam logged onto Skype, immediately finding Jess online.

"Jess!"

"Hi, Sam! I thought we had a date later tonight."

"Yeah, but Dean went to the gym, and I really wanted to see you." Sam studied his fiance's beautiful if not slightly pixelated face. She was wearing an oversized tee shirt (one of his) that hung almost completely off one shoulder revealing her collarbone. Her bushy, curly hair was smashed into a messy bun on the top of her head. "You look cute."

Jess laughed. He loved that about her. She was so open. Even now, thousands of miles away, connected by fuzzy web cam, he could tell every emotion she was feeling at the moment. She never felt the need or the compulsion to hide bits and pieces of herself, to tuck away opinions if they differed from those in the room.

"I love you, Sammy." And there. Jess was so open with her affection, too. There was no masking it behind macho bullshit. Being around Jess was everything growing up with a chronically grieving father who had daddy issues himself wasn't.

"So Cas moved out," Sam informed her.

"Shut up! Why?" Sam shrugged.

"I don't have a clue. It's weird, he and Dean seem like they're constantly fighting, and then back to being best friends."

"How have they acted since Cas moved out?" A stray lock escaped her bun and Sam had the urge to reach over and tuck it behind her ear.

"Actually, I haven't seen them together. Dean's been a real delight, but Cas is fine at lunch."

"Wait, they don't eat lunch together?"

"Dean keeps getting held up at lunch."

"Oh."

"Actually, Cas started sitting with those girls from the staff meeting I told you about."

"The ones that yelled at you?" Jess cooed. Sam pulled a face at her, which she referred to as his "bitch face", and she laughed.

"Yeah. They're actually not that bad." Jess waited for him to continue, bright eyes hinting at more. "Well, they're actually exactly the same as they were at the meeting. They're snarky, sarcastic, blunt, and unapologetic about it."

"Naturally you kind of love them," Jess surmised.

"I kind of do," Sam agreed.

"So tell me! Do they like you back? Did you try sending them notes? Or are you playing it cool?" Jess teased.

"I, uh, started having lunch with them and Cas." Jess clapped with excitement. "I actually have a really good time with them. They're helping me plan Dean's birthday."

"Wow. What did Charlie and Jo say to having them help?"

"Oh! I forgot! I haven't really talked to them in a couple of days. Jo's still acting weird." Jess chewed on her bottom lip and thought for a moment before speaking.

"You're really enjoying this new group of friends?" Sam shrugged.

"I'm really comfortable with them."

"But Dean hasn't really gotten to know them yet?"

"I don't think so. What are you thinking?"

"Well first, I don't think Dean and these girls—"

"The Pink Ladies," Sam inserted. Jess giggled.

"—_The Pink Ladies_ are going to get along." Sam considered this and agreed. "And I love that you found them."

"Thanks?" Sam quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I just think that you might like them so much because they obviously like you, they don't sound like people that would let you eat with them if they didn't, and they aren't there for Dean. They're just yours." Sam's mouth opened and closed without words leaving them. "Sam, I love you. I love Dean. You're so much fuller as a person since Dean came back in your life. I know all your friends love you both. I just think it's nice you have something all your own."

"I have you."

"Of course you have me, Sam. But I'm all the way in California. We talk every day, but you know what? I still miss you every day."

"Me too." They spent the rest of their conversation talking about Jess' classes, her drunk roommates, and a little bit about Dean's upcoming birthday party.

When Dean came home, smelling like a couple bucket's worth of sweat, he immediate hopped in the shower, then proceeded to barricade himself in his room. Sam knocked on his door a little after 10, only to be yelled at through the door.

"_What do you want, Sammy? I'm on the phone!"_

"You're on the phone? With who?" The door opened to reveal an irritated Dean.

"With Cas." Dean's eyebrow was raised as if wondering what the hell Sam was doing interrupting his phone call.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Stuff."

"Okay," Sam accepted. He added, "Are you guys still fighting?"

"No. We weren't fighting." Sam pulled a face at his brother who sighed. "Yeah, okay. We're fine now. We just had a misunderstanding."

"Good. Now maybe you won't be such a pain in my ass." Sam went to his own bedroom after Dean gave him the finger and shut his door. Sam slept much better that night.

**Thursday.**

Sam woke up to the smell of bacon and the sounds of Led Zeppelin. He shuffled downstairs to see what was going on and found Dean smiling and singing along as he cooked breakfast at such an ungodly hour.

"Dean?"

"Sammy! I'm making pancakes. I was gonna make waffles, but uh, I don't know how to use the waffle iron." Dean made motions with his hand, flipping them in tandem, with confusion all over his face. Sam rubbed his eyes as he stood barefoot, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He yawned and made his way to the bathroom as Dean sang at the top of his lungs.

Dean's good mood lasted all the way through breakfast and the ride to school. Sam gave in and belted Queen along with his brother.

Lunchtime, however, was a different story. Sam sat with Ruby, Meg, and Lilith, casually throwing a wave at his old table (when did he start considering it his 'old' table?), helping himself to Lilith's carrot sticks when Cas and Dean walked into the cafeteria. Cas headed towards Sam's table, while Dean stood confused.

"Are we sitting here now?" Dean asked, his eyes darting from Sam to Cas to Meg to Ash a few tables down to Jo to Lilith to—

"You can't sit with us," announced Meg. Sam and Cas looked at her with concerned faces.

"Sorry," agreed Ruby. Lilith shook her head.

"Why not?" Dean challenged.

"No one prettier than us can sit with us," Lilith answered. Dean deflated while Sam and Cas laughed. Dean waved at Ash, Charlie, Jo, and Lisa before sitting between Cas and Lilith. Almost immediately Ruby reached over and grabbed a strawberry from Dean's lunch. Dean shot her an angry look. She rolled her eyes.

"We share at this table."

"What? Is this a communist table?" Lilith rolled her eyes and spoke.

"You're lucky you're pretty." Meg went in for a strawberry, but Dean pulled his lunch towards his chest. Things only went downhill from there.

It turned out as comfortable as Sam and Castiel were at that table, Dean was just as uncomfortable. Meg, Ruby, and Lilith seemed to be taking pure delight in pushing Dean's buttons, which they managed to find pretty quickly. Dean's terrible come backs and grumblings made Sam want to take out his phone and video tape it so he could watch it every day.

"What's the matter, Gap ad? Not sure how to handle women who aren't throwing their panties at your feet?" Meg asked after the bell rang and they all got up to leave for their next classes. Dean narrowed his eyes at her and for a moment Sam was worried his jaw would break off with how tightly it was clenched.

"Well, this was a pleasure. Let's do it again soon," Dean pushed out.

"Don't worry. We will." Meg winked at him before she, Ruby, and Lilith sauntered off the opposite direction.

"Those girls scare me," Dean confessed.

The day passed by quickly after lunch for Sam. His classes were engaged, his students in productive moods, and not one student asked him to prom (junior or senior). He considered today an accomplishment. Still, he couldn't wait to get home and unwind. He still had to look through the plans for Dean's birthday, which was panning out to be simpler than he originally thought it would be, but Sam couldn't argue against the fact that simple suited Dean much better than elaborate or grand schemes. He had exchanged phone numbers with Meg in order to text about the plans, and she started a group text including Lilith, Ruby, and Castiel. It proved to be quite interesting reading material. He didn't realize one could express so much using only emoticons, but somehow Lilith did.

Sam packed his things as his last class flooded out of his classroom when the buzz in his pocket caught his attention. He pulled out his phone and read the text message from Dean.

'_**Meet at my classroom.'**_

Sam reached Dean's classroom jaw dropping at the sight before him. Outside in the hall, pressed against the wall was a line of teachers right outside Dean's door. Sam pulled open the door and popped his head in.

"Dean?"

"Sammy! Come in so we can start."

"What's going on?" Sam noted the clearing in the middle of Dean's classroom. The desks and chairs were staked and shoved out of the way. Three chairs lined up in a row in front of Dean's desk facing the clearing. "Are you holding auditions for something?"

"He is hearing out all the teacher and staff proposals for the money he was presented with by the South Dakota State School Board," Castiel informed him. Sam turned around and found Castiel in the doorway.

"And he roped you into this?" Sam asked.

"Yes. As you have been as well." Sam's smile fell from his face realizing that there were in fact three chairs there. He sighed. Judging by the length of that line outside, and considering many of the faculty were still on their way, Sam let go of the hope that he was going to have a carefree Thursday night.

**FRIDAY.**

Sam was angry. He was groggy as hell _again_ and running late for school. _Again. _Dean's proposal hearing lasted until 7 pm, then Dean insisted they go over each proposal at home, making piles and lists of the value each proposal entailed. Sam's night was filled with charts, debates, and what felt like a hundred thousand Powerpoint presentations in his email to review at home. Cas ended up sleeping over, and they ordered four boxes of pizza, and made a hundred (more or less) pots of coffee. It was a difficult decision, not only were many of the proposals well planned and thought out, but almost all of them seemed necessary in Sam's opinion. He wasn't sure how Dean was going to choose, but he only had until tonight's staff meeting to decide.

Sam was so distracted by his anger, his exhaustion, and his grumbling stomach that he didn't even notice Cas was leaving Dean's room when they bumped into each other in the hallway. Sam headed to the bathroom as Cas made his way downstairs, already dressed.

'_Huh. So maybe Cas left some clothes here'?_ Sam wondered, but not really giving it much thought. He just knew a dressed Cas this early meant breakfast, and that he certainly could get behind.

It was in the shower that Sam came up with his plan. He was still angry at Dean for his lack of enough sleep this week, and he landed on the perfect way to get back at his brother. It had been a good year and a half since their last prank war, and Sammy considered the bags under his eyes as the first shot from Dean. He smiled to himself after shampooing his hair twice (the second time that week), dreaming up the perfect prank he could pull on his brother that day.

Sam's anger faded as the morning progressed, thoughts of possible pranks to play on Dean dancing around in his head. Since it was Friday and he was ahead in his lessons, he decided to play movies for his classes. Lunch went almost exactly like the day before, with Dean fighting a losing war of wit with Lilith, Ruby, and Meg.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Dammit, Ruby! If you wanted potato ships, you should have brought your own! What, Sammy?" Dean barked, never taking his eyes off Ruby and guarding his lunch with a plastic spork.

"Chuck said he wanted to see you right after school today," Sam lied.

"Goddamn it," Dean breathed, at Meg stealing his chocolate milk or at meeting Chuck, Sam wasn't sure.

When the bell for the end of the day rang, Sam made sure to grab his Krazy glue, itching powder, and his spare key to Dean's classroom. He waited until Dean was around the corner of his classroom, hiding behind the lockers before bolting to Dean's door. He closed the door behind him and made a bee line for his brother's markers and blackboard. The jiggle of the doorknob made Sam almost leap out of his comfortable loafers. Panicking, he leapt into Dean's practically empty supply cabinet, shutting himself inside.

"Dean, I just don't want to discuss it, okay?" Sam recognized Castiel's rough tone. He heard the door slam, footsteps, and the sound he guessed to be the shutting of the windows and maybe the rustling of curtains.

"You know what, Cas? I don't care. All week you've been hot and cold with me and you're going to be straight with me right now," Dean demanded. Then he added in a rushed pace, "And no smart ass remark about my choice of words!"

"I am not one of your students or one of the many, _many_ women throwing themselves at you. You cannot demand anything of me." Sam's face scrunched in confusion. This argument was getting strange.

"What are you angry about? What did I do?" Dean asked, softer this time. It was a few seconds before Cas answered.

"Jo told me that she doesn't think we, this, is a good idea for you. After all, I cannot provide you with a 'real family' in the long run."

"She didn't say that. She said that?" Sam assumed Castiel nodded.

"She's like a sister to you, Dean. She's your family." His voice sounded small and fragile for him.

"Well, you know what, Cas?" Dean asked in a gentle tone. "Fuck her. She might be family, but that doesn't mean she gets to decide shit in my life."

Sam waited for Cas to reply, but heard only silence. Sam wondered if they had left the room so he could get out of the cabinet and stand up straight. Before he could gather the courage to check if the coast was clear, he heard the distinct sound of lips smacking. Then he heard it.

_A moan. _

Sam heard a moan. His eyes went large and he froze, every part of him hyper aware. The conversation he just heard flashed through his brain. The past week's strange behavior from Dean, the weeks before that. . .

. . . Sam thought about the staring between them, the lack of personal space, the closeness of their friendship. . .

. . . The fact that Dean hadn't been with a woman in months. . .

"Fuck Cas, you're so hot. I've missed you all week." Sam cringed.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam tried to ignore how breathy Cas sounded.

"You told me this was what you thought about the first time we met." Then Sam heard the terrifying sound of a zipper unzipping. Cas began to moan and Sam heard slurping sounds.

"This isn't happening," Sam whispered to himself.

He began to panic. He couldn't leave the cabinet. He didn't want to see what they were doing, nor did he want his brother or Cas to know he was there. He couldn't bare that embarrassing confrontation. Catching them with their pants down (literally) was just too much for him to handle right now.

His chest constricted as the sounds from the other side of the cabinet door grew louder, bolder. He did the only thing he could at the moment. Sam curled into a ball on the floor of the cabinet and covered his ears with his hands. Unfortunately he couldn't quite block out the moaning or Cas chanting Dean's name or the wet noises.

_Oh God! The wet noises!_

Sam began to rock as he tried to put his mind in a safe place. He thought of Jess, and Stanford, and the one week he had a dog when he ran away and lived off of Funions. . . but the noises wouldn't stop, and he didn't want to soil his good memories with the horrific nightmare that was happening just a few feet away from him.

_No! No! No! No! No! Fortheloveofallthingsgoodinlifepleaseno!_

Maybe he blacked out. Maybe it was like when trauma survivors reported to have blocked the painful experience and buried it in deep corners of their minds never to be exhumed. Either way, Sam found himself wandering around the hallways at Sam Colt High School, no real memory of how he got there.

"Sam?" Sam turned towards the voice.

"Ash?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I wish," Sam whispered. He allowed Ash to lead him to the theater where they took seats next to Charlie.

"Hey Sam! Long time, no hang," Charlie greeted. "So I was hoping we could meet up soon to discuss the Gay/Straight Alliance Club?"

Sam stared into her big hazel eyes, forgetting how to use words.

"He's been like this since I found him," Ash spoke. Charlie nodded.

"Did you and Jess break up?" She asked gently.

"What? No!" Sam found his tongue and his words.

"Oh. Good. Hey, so I wanted to talk to you about the Gay/Straight Alliance club. I really think we should get that going."

"You're right, Charlie. I'll text you later, okay?" She nodded and smiled at him.

"So do you know what Dean decided?" she asked. Sam shook his head as he watched the theater fill up with chattering staff members.

"We were up late last night trying to figure it out, but I don't know. It all seemed pretty important."

"Well if anyone's going to find the best way to spend that money, it's going to be Dean," Charlie pointed out.

"So, you and the scary Arts lady teachers have been getting cozy," observed Ash.

"Yeah. Sorry about lunch this week, guys."

"No worries! It's kinda nice to be the only stud at a table full of beautiful women." Ash quirked an eyebrow and Charlie snorted. "Actually, I was wondering if you could set a guy up with one of them? I think the blonde one was giving me the look yesterday."

"Lilith? She would eat you up, man."

"I know," Ash agreed. Sam and Charlie laughed.

"Hey, Cas!" Charlie stood up and hugged the incredibly disheveled looking teacher who took a seat next to Sam. He saw that Cas's hair stuck out in all directions, and he tried not to stare at the missed loop of his belt.

"Are you feeling all right, Sam? You look ill," Cas noted. Sam swallowed hard, but tried to put on a smile.

"I'm fine." Castiel squinted at him, but said nothing for which Sam was grateful. For now he decided to push the revelation that his bother and brother's best friend were lovers. After all, Dean could certainly do, and have done, worse.

It was another fifteen minutes before Chuck and Dean went on stage. They passed the time by talking about Ash's pursuit of breaking into the amateur lucha libre scene, and Charlie's new foray into the single life. Once Chuck shuffled on stage, feedback from the mic piercing their ears. The theater hushed instantly. Ash, for whatever reason pulled out his laptop and began to fiddle with it.

"Hi, guys. Uh, thanks for showing up, again, on a Friday night. I'm really, uh, touched that you are all willing to come here. On Friday. Again," Chuck started. Dean cleared his throat. "Yes! Staying on track, I would like to give the microphone to Mr. Dean Winchester who has quite a, uh, announcement to make. I'm sure you all want—"

"Get going, Chuck!" someone from the audience yelled. Chuck laughed nervously, then handed the microphone to Dean and stepped aside.

"Hey, everyone," Dean greeted with a small wave. "After a lot of deliberation, and sleepless nights, I've decided how to best spend the $30,000 for our beloved Samuel Colt High."

Dean cleared his throat, stealing a glance at Sam and smiling—no wait. He didn't look at him, he was smiling at Cas next to Sam. Warmth spread through his chest unexpectedly.

"Here's the thing. I think all of the departments deserve and need the money. If I could, I'd give all of you the money, but split up a hundred different ways, $30,000 isn't a lot. So I came up with this. Ash?" Sam looked to Ash who nodded and gave Dean the rock 'n roll hand sign. Sam looked back to Dean who was pulling down the white screen with a long hook. The lights went out and the projector turned on.

"Do you know what he's doing?" Sam asked Cas. He found he wasn't surprised to see Cas nod. On the white screen, the first of Dean's Powerpoint presentation appeared.

"I'm proposing to invest the $30,000 in a school sponsored and run festival where each department would be able to run their own booths and take 100% of all profits raised. This is a chance for everyone to expand their budgets with equal opportunity to do so." Dean beamed at the stunned theater full of teachers, and began his proposal, running over the details and benefits of his plan. Sam sat listening to his brother, pride swelling in his chest as he did so.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

10,713 words!

This was experimental for me as I wanted to write the entire thing through Sam's POV. I thought it was interesting to see how it looked from an outside perspective, especially an "outsider" that is actually pretty much right there in the mix. I wanted to show how Destiel affects Sam.

The Pink Ladies thing came by accidentally, but I enjoyed writing it so much! I think we will be seeing more of them. Also, we wear pink on Wednesdays. ;)

I hope this was an enjoyable chapter. I know sometimes when reading Destiel fics, some readers skim through parts without them, but hopefully this chapter added to your experience instead of taking away from it.

Thanks for reading!


	16. What List is This You Speak of?

Castiel watched Dean explain his proposal for the school run festival to raise funds for every department at Samuel Colt High School. He spoke with charisma and confidence, though with none of his usual cockiness. He was all business today. Dean answered all questions, not that there were many of those. He had put together a thoroughly thought out plan, and the staff was responsive, as Castiel knew they would be. He felt a swelling of admiration and pride as Dean cracked a joke that made the entire theater laugh. Castiel felt Dean's idea was truly inspired, and he was impressed that he was able to put together a budget, plan, and proposal in the small amount of time he had, though not surprised. He knew Dean had knack for making anything work, whether it was fixing broken down cars back in college to earn money, or fixing the dishwasher last December when it broke, or just helping a particularly uninterested student to find motivation in his academic schoolwork. Dean could make things work.

So perhaps he really could make things work out with Castiel? If he wanted it enough? Lord knew Castiel did, or at least a part of him, the secret part of him that he thought died years ago with—

"This is genius," Sam whispered to him as Dean showed a pie chart to the staff.

"It is," agreed Castiel. "He only told me about it last night. Dean has been researching it since last Friday."

Castiel observed the way Sam beamed at his brother, and for the first time in over a dozen years (though not the first time since he moved to Sioux Falls), he thought about what it would be like to have family once again.

* * *

Castiel, Dean, Sam, and Ash sat at a table at The Roadhouse. It was still early so the typical Friday night crowd hadn't arrived just yet. The lights weren't dimmed, and the smell of cigarettes and bad decisions hadn't quite settled in yet, either. The bar was sedated, a group of what looked like office workers were in one corner complaining about inter office drama, while a band comprised of what looked a bunch of twenty three year olds set up their gear on the small stage in another corner.

Dean was glowing. Sam praised him the entire drive from Sam Colt to The Roadhouse, while Dean tried and failed to waive it off like it was a small feat, nothing to write home about.

"Everyone is pretty frickin' stoked about this festival idea," Ash told Dean. Ellen walked past them, knocking Ash's boots off the table without missing a step.

"Yeah, but it's not a guarantee that it'll happen. Chuck has to get it approved by the district," Dean replied through half a mouthful of garlic fries.

"Dean, be positive!" Sam chided. Dean rolled his eyes and drank from his beer.

"I agree with Sam," Castiel voiced. "I think you should be proud of yourself. Your presentation was well prepared, and I know Chuck believes in it, in you. As do I."

Castiel stretched his leg slightly under the table until his foot touched Dean's. The corner of Dean's lips turned up slightly, just enough for Castiel to notice.

"So, not to interrupt the staring, but man, Cas, do you think you could put in a good word for me with one of your new friends at lunch?" Ash asked.

"No, Ash. Don't do it, man. Those girls are evil," Dean pleaded.

"They are not, Dean," argued Castiel. He felt a twinge of annoyance as Dean rolled his eyes again. He huffed and took back his foot. Dean's eyes snapped to Castiel's face, and he noted the scrunched lines on Dean's forehead. Castiel tilted his head to silently question him.

"I have to go take a leak," Dean announced, shooting Cas a quick look before he stood up.

"Yes, I have to relieve myself as well." Ash and Sam nodded then launched into a conversation about Lilith supposedly giving Ash longing looks at the theater today. Castiel followed Dean into the men's room and watched as he made sure they were alone, then locked the door to keep it that way.

"Dean?" Castiel asked. "Are we crossing off number nine on our list tonight?"

"What? No, Cas. What was that?" Castiel was taken aback at the seriousness on Dean's face. "Out there?"

"What do you mean?"

"I say Regina George and her clique are mean girls, and you—" Dean paused to compose himself. He continued in a small voice that gripped Castiel's heart and twisted it. "You took your foot away."

Castiel was reminded of a small child telling a secret.

"I surmise you mean Lilith, Ruby, and Meg? I don't know who Regina George is." Dean nodded. He was leaning against the sink, just like the night of Sam's birthday, though this time he was curving into himself, arms crossed, and looking so vulnerable Castiel wanted to tuck him into his arms and keep him there until the stars in the sky all went out one by one.

He walked up to Dean and wrapped one arm around him while the other grabbed Dean's hand. He rested his head against Castiel's chest.

"Your heart is beating like Thumper from _Bambie_," Dean whispered. His voice was muffled by Castiel's shirt. He felt Dean's fingers trace patterns along his palm.

"My heart rate is elevated because I am nervous," confessed Castiel into Dean's hair. Dean looked up at him.

"Why are you nervous?"

"I don't understand why you're upset, and I think it's because of me." Dean stood straighter and took a step back. Castiel was able to see his full, freckled face.

"My mom was really touchy. She was always hugging me, or kissing me, or stroking my hair, or holding my hand. . . anything, really. But she was always touching me. When she died, there was no more touching. It really messed up my dad, and he stopped being. . . I don't know what word to use. Whole?" Dean let out a dark chuckle. "He stopped being whole," Dean repeated.

Castiel waited for him to continue.

"I remember he used to pick me up and kiss me when mom was alive, but after she died, it was like he couldn't stand touching me or Sam for too long."

Castiel tightened his grip around Dean's hand and used his free one to brush the beautiful face before him. He understood now. Dean looked away as he spoke:

"If you're mad at me, fine. Give me dirty looks, call me an asshole, stop talking me, whatever. But never stop touching me, Cas. Don't take that away."

"Okay," replied Castiel. Dean nodded, still not looking at Cas. He leaned in to kiss Dean's lips which were almost pouting. He made to pull away but suddenly there were strong arms keeping him in place, and plush lips pushing back. Castiel delved back into the kiss and the sweetness of it all turned hot and heavy within a breath.

Dean kissed Castiel with an almost desperate urgency. He felt Dean's hands grab at the lapels of his trench coat, pulling him closer. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, and pushed his groin against his. He moaned into the Dean's mouth who replied by grinding against him. The barriers of slacks and jeans gave just enough friction to drive Castiel up the wall, urging him to find a way to gain more. He pulled his mouth from Dean's so he could taste the man's neck. He sucked on that special spot right above Dean's collarbone, pulling his sweater down just enough for access.

Dean was breathing hard. Castiel liked to hear the sound of it, especially when Dean could no longer keep all of his moans in, and one would escape.

"Fuck, Cas. This goddamn sink is digging into my back." Castiel smiled into Dean's neck as he turned him around and led him to the door. He pushed Dean against it, and suddenly his hands were on Dean's belt, pulling at it until it gave way and he was able to unbutton Dean's fly. He palmed Dean through the rough denim, feeling how hard his dick was.

Dean wanted Castiel to never stop touching him, and Castiel would grant him that.

Castiel slid the zipper down, making more room for him to dip his hand inside Dean's black briefs. He wrapped his hand around Dean and began to stroke his hard, waiting cock. Castiel watched Dean's face. His pink lips were open while his eyes were closed. Castiel watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. When he swiped his thumb over the head of Dean's dick, the other man gasped and took his lower lip between his teeth. Castiel's own cock throbbed in his pants, begging to be touched. But Castiel wanted this to be about Dean right now.

He used both of his hands to pull down Dean's pants and underwear until it was around his ankles and Castiel himself was on his knees. He licked at Dean's balls.

"Jesus Christ!" Dean whispered.

"No, I'm Castiel," he replied before licking his lips and taking Dean's dick into his mouth. Castiel held onto the mewling man's hips to keep him from moving. Castiel bobbed his head up and down on Dean, hollowing his cheeks as he did so to create a vacuum and swallowing all the spit that was forming. The underside of Dean's dick slid against Castiel's tongue and every once in a while he would pause his sucking and bobbing to swirl his tongue around the head of Dean's dick.

The door knob next to Dean's hand that was gripping at the flat surface of the door jiggled, causing both men to cease their movements. Whoever it was must have left because there was nothing but silence for the next ten seconds. Castiel continued his assault on Dean's dick with his mouth, a new air of excitement at almost being caught.

Fingers threaded through Castiel's hair, hesitantly at first. When Castiel took Dean deeper, all the way to the back of his throat and tried to swallow the tip of it, chocking just a little, those same fingers tightened and pulled at his hair.

"Fuck, Cas. Yeah, just like that," Dean encouraged. His voice was wrecked and Castiel loved it. He moaned with Dean's cock in his mouth, trying to take him even deeper. Dean's moans filled the air, all pretense of trying to keep quiet thrown out.

"I'm going to come soon!" Dean announced. Castiel pulled away from Dean who had a look of pure terror on his face when Castiel looked up. This caused Castiel to smirk.

"Come on my face, Dean," Castiel told him as he continued to stroke Dean's cock. Dean's eyes grew wide and he nodded enthusiastically.

"Fuck yeah!" Dean agreed. Castiel took a finger from his free hand into his mouth, lubing it up with as much spit as he could. Dean followed that finger as Castiel moved it under Dean's balls. He widened his stance as best he could given his ankles were still bound by the heap of underwear and jeans. Castiel slid his finger into Dean's ass, carefully and slowly. He pushed into Dean's tight hole, filling him only with half a finger.

He heard Dean begin to breathe even faster, and pumped Deans dick faster, trying to coax his orgasm out of him.

"Fuck, Cas. Fuck, fuck, Cas, Cas, Cas, CAS!" Hot spurts of come gushed all over Castiel's face. Castiel felt Dean's muscles clench around his finger. He looked up and saw Dean watching him. He licked some of the semen that was near his mouth, never breaking eye contact. Dean continued to shoot more come and Castiel allowed all of it to land on his face. When Dean was empty and his knees began to shake, Castiel slid his finger out of him and stood up so he could better hold Dean up.

"Cas, that was fucking hot. Shit, you've got my jizz all over your face. Fuck," Dean babbled in his post orgasm haze. Castiel in reply simply wiped some of the come from his face and sucked it off his finger. Dean swallowed before he whispered in surrender, "Son of a bitch."

"We can cross off number nine on our list," Castiel informed him. Dean laughed, his eyes shining in the slightly dingy and dark bathroom of the Roadhouse.

* * *

**A/N: Just a celebratory update for season 9's premiere last night! Some sap and smut for you! **


End file.
